


Soulmates

by JustThatOneGirl1815



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCEU, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Attempted Rape, Complete, Damian Wayne Feels, Damian Wayne X Reader - Freeform, Damian Wayne is Robin, F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Making Out, Protective Robin, Rape, Science Project, Secrets, Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Soulmate AU, awkward dinners, damian wayne is beautiful, friends not soulmates, older!Damian, painter!damian, really fucking long, rlly proud of the ending, soulmates not friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 23:50:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16712398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustThatOneGirl1815/pseuds/JustThatOneGirl1815
Summary: In a world where people have their soulmates' name written on their wrist and only they can see it, is Damian Wayne and you. Neither of you are ready for a relationship when you find out you are soulmates, but when you guys are partners on a year-long project... well, you'd better get used to the idea real fast, before life catches up.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a few notes here:  
> 1\. This is over 24,000 words at once, don't read if you are a coward.  
> 2\. There is rape and sex in this.  
> 3\. I apologize for any grammatical errors or continuity errors, I wrote this in four days with multiple cups of hot chocolate.  
> 4\. Slow burnnnnn, but it doesn't feel like it  
> 5\. If you have any feels whatsoever for Damian Wayne, this is your fic.  
> 6\. I don't hit the whole "Damian is Robin and his entire family are vigilantes" point very hard, I was more focused on his personal life.  
> 7\. In this soulmate thing, only the soulmates can see each other's names. But the names are still there.  
> 8\. I apologize for the inconsistency on the reader's name and the pov, I just didn't feel like fixing them  
> 9\. I hope that the people who give this fic a chance, love it, and leave kudos/comments.  
> 10\. All rights to the characters in this story go to DC (except the OCs, for obvious reasons)

It all started with science class. Science class and the year long project Mr. Berg had assigned.

Damian found himself surrounded by 75% of the class, all asking to be his partner. He knew that it wasn’t because he was the smartest student in the school, but because he was Damian Wayne, son of Bruce Wayne.

Damian was not interested.

He scanned the class, looking over all the heads of all the people surrounding him and found her. She stood awkwardly off to the side, looking alone. She seemed unsure of what to do, which caught his attention immediately.

He pushed through the roaring crowd of over-excited students, knocking a few of them to the ground with the sheer force he had to use. He apologized, but didn’t bother to make it sound sincere.

A few, more desperate, people followed him. Mostly the girls in his fan club that would do anything— anything— to spend a year with him.

As previously stated, Damian was not interested.

One of them called out, “Damian! Damian be my partner!”

He continued walking until he came to where she was standing. Other girls had chimed in, calling out for him.

“Would you accept my partnership for this project?” He asked her, hoping she’d be able to hear him over the screaming coming from behind him.

The girl’s eyes snapped up to meet his. “Are you— are you talking to me?”

He chuckled. “Well, I’m not talking to the idiots behind me.”

She glanced around him, seeing the eight girls left still begging for him.

“Are you going to make me do all the work?” She asked.

Damian scoffed. “I figured it’d be the other way around, but if we can split it up evenly... I would not be opposed to it.”

A smile spread across the girl’s face. “I’d love to be your partner.” She held out a hand. He took it and they sat down at the nearest pair of desks. A collective sigh came from the Damian-Wayne-Fangirl-Club.

The girl laughed, “Do you deal with that often?”

“Unfortunately.” Damian answered.

In minutes, the rest of the class had been paired up and Mr. Berg had begun his PowerPoint presentation on what the project entailed.

Damian was paying attention for the majority of the instructions, but every once in a while his thoughts would wander.

Usually, his thoughts would drift to his training.  
Sometimes, they would drift to the name on his wrist, invisible to everyone except him and his soulmate.  
But today, they drifted to the girl in the desk next to him. Why didn’t he know her name yet?

While Damian was scouring his brain for her name, Mr. Berg was teaching on. The girl next to him was furiously writing down side notes in the margins of the instructional packet that had been given to them. Damian was glad, because he had missed a good ten minutes of the lecture due to his wandering thoughts.

The bell rang as the lecture finished, and the girl next to him was out of her seat and out of the room before Damian could even turn to ask her what her name was. He sighed, gathered his books, and made his way to his next class.

 

* * *

 

**The next day, Mr. Berg’s class.**

Damian sat down in the seat next to her. Class hadn’t started yet, they were both early. He turned to her and tapped her shoulder.

“Hmm?” She asked.

“Hello. Yesterday, I did not introduce myself. I’m Damian Wayne.”

“I know. Everyone knows.”

He huffed, “Perhaps, however, I don’t know your name.”

She turned all the way to him, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

He sucked in a breath and glanced down at his wrist. (Y/N) was written on it. “That’s a beautiful name.” He stated. He looked to her wrist and caught a glimpse of and n peeking out from behind her bracelets.

Damian’s gaze moved to the front of the classroom where Mr. Berg was giving instructions. His mind knew he should be paying attention, but his thoughts were a frenzy of wild winds.

He’d just met his soulmate.  
She didn’t seem to care.  
She was beautiful.  
He was a vigilante who didn’t have time for a soulmate.  
He’d never cared about having a soulmate until now.  
God, she wasn’t just beautiful, she was angelic.  
As far as he knew, only soulmates could see the tattoos on each other’s skin.  
So... maybe she knew their relation to each other and couldn’t care less.  
That was good, right?  
Yes. That was good. He didn’t have the time for a realtionship.

His thoughts returned to Mr. Berg’s drawling words.

At the end of the lecture, (Y/N) turned to him. “So, Damian, where do you want to start?”

Damian was going to point out a good place to start, but his vocal cords disagreed. “What name is written on your wrist?” He blurted.

She looked surprised, not prepared for his incredibly blunt question.

Damian quickly caught himself. “I apologize, that was uncalled for. You don’t have to answer. How about we start at—“

“Damian.” She said.

“What?” He asked.

“Damian. That’s the name on my wrist.” She stated.

“Really?” Damian asked, turning back to face her.

(Y/N) had a cautious air about her, as if she didn’t want to say anything wrong.

“That’s my name.” He bluntly stated.

“I know.” She replied.

Damian shook himself out of his surprise and held out his wrist for her to see, her own name sketched on there like the red string of fate. “Funny thing is, your name is on my wrist as well.”

She looked up at him. “Lucky us.” Her voice was low and Damian found himself in a state he’d never experienced before.

“Lucky us,” he replied.

“Can we start on our project now?” She asked, her voice back to normal and her eyes missing the glint he hadn’t noticed before now.

“Of course.”

 

* * *

 

**Your POV**

You were three weeks into the project and despite the astounding amount of work you and Damian had done, it hardly made a dent in the wall of work that was this project.

The project was an interlocking series of mini projects. One poster and essay led to another, which led to another. For each new topic, it had to relate to the previous ones. Each team was to decide how to split up the subjects, and every two-three weeks, they’d have to present the subject, repeating until all twenty subjects had been covered. It was confusing as hell, but the workload was even worse. Damian did his share, thank god. If he didn’t... well you would have died from sleep-deprivation within the first week.

You and Damian had presented your first subject— atoms— yesterday. While the two of you had received a 97 on it, you felt you could do much better. Damian was a genius and you thought you were intelligible as well. You looked over the rubric to see what could have gone wrong, determined to solve the problem at hand.

After much thought, you resolved that Damian and you weren’t working together as well as possible. The way you and Damian worked together... it was formal. You worked together in class and then one of you would take it home to work on and alternate. The best work was when both of you were working together, collaborating and sharing ideas in person, not over email. Yes, email. You were... unsure about your relationship with Damian.

He was your soulmate, you knew that, except you didn’t want a soulmate. No, you didn’t want a _relationship_ at this point in your life. Damian was a nice person, albeit strangely curt and formal, but nice all in all. He had a crude sense of humor at times that you thoroughly enjoyed. The problem was you. You didn’t want a relationship with Damian Wayne, you didn’t need the drama. He was constantly being followed by other girls who didn’t care about their soulmates, preferring to stalk Damian. Not that you blamed them, Damian was endlessly beautiful. His raven hair always looking combed despite the fact that it stuck up off his head in multiple places. His emerald green eyes always sparkled with danger, and god help those he glared at, they’d probably die instantly. His skin was tanned darkly, contrasting gorgeously against his dark eyelashes and the scowl on his face that never seemed to leave. Damian Wayne was _too_ beautiful, yet another reason why you couldn’t possibly be his soulmate, much less in a relationship with him.

You finished your lunch and quickly threw away the trash before returning to your seat. You hardly noticed as someone slid into the seat next to you, soundlessly.

“Can we talk?” Damian gruff voice asked.

You nearly screamed.

“Damian! What the fuck?” You whisper-screeched at him. There were already people looking.

“I apologize, I did not intend to frighten you.” Damian stated, and you found yourself staring into his emerald eyes, noticing how the shades of green seemed to swirl, mixing light and dark, dangerous and kind, uncertainty and arrogance.

“Well, you did.” You snapped, wishing you had some food left to eat so you could ignore his beauty, no wait. Ignore him. Yeah, ignore him.

Damian was quiet for a moment. “Perhaps we should talk another time.”

Damian was about to get up when your uncontrollable mouth decided to speak. “Wait. No, it’s fine. What did you want to say?’

Damian turned back to you. “I was simply wondering if we could work together after school hours on our project. I have come to the conclusion that our lack of cooperation is the root of our problem. If we work together more, we may obtain a better grade.”

Mentally, you were wondering if he was reading your mind. Outwardly, you nodded. “That sounds like a great plan. I’ll get back to you about it later.”

Damian nodded and left the table, the eyes of everyone watching following him and not lingering on you. You cursed quietly. Why couldn’t you have a normal goddamn conversation with him without tensing up and pushing him away? You stood and left the cafeteria, intending to get a head start on the second section of the project— molecules and their chemical reactions.

However, when you reached the library, you found Damian already sitting at a table. You took and a deep breath and squared your shoulders before approaching him.

“Damian,” you greeted. He looked up, surprise evident on his face.

“(Y/N)? I thought you’d still be at lunch.” Damian’s voice was deep and the shadows of the library accented his jawline and cheekbones, both sharp enough to cut steel.

“I was, but I figured it’d be better to work on our project. I didn’t realize you had the same idea, otherwise I wouldn’t have come.”

_Dammit. Why the fuck can’t you say what you really mean?_

Damian said nothing and you noted the shocked expression on his face.

“Shit, Dami, I’m sorry.” You sat down at the table hurriedly, knowing that you had to fix this somehow.

Damian stared at you and you withered under his glare.

“I’m such an asshole.” You said, covering your face in your hands so you couldn’t see Damian’s expression.

You began ranting on how much of an asshole you were, going a whole five minutes before Damian found his voice.

“—and I’m so mean to you, you don’t deserve to be treated like trash. Why are we even fucking soulmates? I’m an asshole and you’re perfect. I try to push you away but goddamn you—“

“(Y/N), stop.” Damian’s voice was deep and commanding and you shut up immediately, looking at him in surprise.

There was a moment where both of you were silent, just gazing into each other’s eyes. In seconds, Damian moved around the table and took you into his arms.

“You’re not an asshole, (Y/N). I think you’re perfect.”

You settled your head down on his shoulder as a tear escaped, sliding down your face and landing on his tanned skin. He flinched and moved so he could see your face. He wiped away the tears in your eye gently with his thumb.

You pulled away from his grip as you heard people entering the library. Damian seemed to get the idea and moved back to his seat.

“So, for molecules and their chemical reactions, “Damian began loudly, making sure the other people in the library heard him talking business. “I’m thinking you can do the poster and I’ll write the essay. You’re terrible at essay writing, but if your half of the last poster has anything to say, you can make one hell of a poster.”

You looked at him in shock, but relaxed when he winked.

“Wayne, if you think for one second I’m going to let you even _look_ at the essay, you’re wrong. You do the poster, I’ll do the essay. You can’t write an essay for shit.” You played along, speaking just as loud as he was. You heard someone shuffle away, whispering something about not being able to concentrate with the yelling happening.

You smirked as another person left. Damian was currently “yelling” at you for earning them their bad grade on the last section.

“I’ll have you know that it was my parts that got the good grades!”

Only a few more heated lines were exchanged before the only people left in the library were you and Damian, even the librarian had left.

You burst out laughing. Damian was smiling, his green eyes sparkling.

“Did we just get everyone to evacuate the library?” You asked him.

“We did. Now we can talk in peace.” Damian replied, a type of mischief in his expression. You wondered if he did this often.

“We can.”

“Why do you not care that we’re soulmates?” Damian asked, catching you off guard. His face had lost the mischief, showing only his callous features.

“I... I do care, Damian. But... I don’t know... I suppose... I’m not... I think...”

Damian leaned closer, “(Y/N), I’m not mad at you. Frankly, I don’t have the time for a soulmate. I just want to know why you say things like...”

“Like what I said earlier.” You finished, looking at the floor.

Damian nodded. You opened your mouth to answer. But the bell rang. You stood hurriedly, not wanting to continue this conversation.

“(Y/N)!” Damian called after you, but you were already out the doors.

 

* * *

 

You sat down at your desk in science, not bothering to acknowledge Damian. The two of you worked quietly together, only exchanging a few short sentences over the period of an hour.

In the hallway after class, however, Damian seemed to have other ideas. He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into a janitor’s closet.

“Dammit, (Y/N). We can’t be partners, much less soulmates, if you’re going to ignore me.” Damian snapped, his voice a whisper.

“What the fuck, Damian. Let me go.” You commanded, not bothering to lower your voice.

“No. I need you to talk to me.” Damian’s face was incredibly close to yours.

You stayed silent, protesting. Damian sighed.

“Look, I’m not a very... emotional person. I usually don’t care if someone is mad at me or if I hurt them. But you... I hardly know you and just dragging you in here ripped my heart to pieces. Okay? We don’t have to be soulmates, we don’t have to be in a relationship, but we’re partners on a year long project and I want us to at least be friends.” He confessed.

You swallowed. “Damian...” You lifted your gaze to meet his, “Damian Wayne. You... you are a literal god, the handsomest man alive, you’re the son of Bruce Wayne. I’m nobody. I don’t want a soulmate, I don’t want a relationship. Certainly not with someone like you... someone who is better than me in literally every way imaginable. Damian Wayne... you don’t deserve me. Hell, you don’t deserve anyone in this school.”

Damian blinked. “Is that really what you think of me?”

You sniffed and nodded. Damian moved away from you. The air between you, which had been warm from his body heat, was now cold, callous, unwelcoming.

“(Y/N)...” Damian’s gaze was on the wall behind you. He seemed unsure of what to say next. “I don’t... I don’t want a relationship either. Perhaps... we could just be friends for now? We need to work together in order to complete this project adequately, and we cannot do that if we can’t even look each other in the eye.”

He was staring at you now, you could feel his gaze burning a hole through your head. Your hands shook. Slowly, you raised your gaze to meet his, afraid of what you might find in those endless green depths. “Friends.”

He nodded. “Not soulmates or whatever the fuck we’re supposed to be, just friends.”

You smirked, “Can you let me out of this closet now?”

Damian’s face flushed, “Uh.. yeah, I suppose I could manage that.” He opened the door and stepped out, making way for you.

 

* * *

 

The next day when you sat down at your seat, Damian was already there. Waiting for you on your desk, was a small slip of paper. You looked at him questioning, however he only gestured for you to open it.

_Friends Not Soulmates_  
_735-185-7302_

You snorted, refolded the paper, and stuck it into your pocket. “Thanks.”

“I was wondering if you’d be willing to meet me after school, in order for us to work together on our project.” Damian’s voice was gruff and quiet.

You opened your mouth to retort some snide comment, but the memory of Damian, his face only a foot from yours, whispering the single word that changed your mind about him returned. _Friends._ “That sounds like a great idea. Where would you want to meet?”

Damian released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “The Gotham Public Library would be an acceptable place.”

You nodded and turned to the front as Mr. Berg began speaking.

That afternoon, you walked in the large doors of the Gotham Library. You looked down at your phone.

**I’m in the back of the library. It’s a long walk, however this area**

**never has people in it and the tables are large. I brought food and drinks.**

You read over the text twice before deciding that you had no idea how to get to the place Damian was talking about. You approached a librarian.

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

She looked up from her reading. You noticed she was older and had a twinkle in her eyes that made her look years younger.

“Could you direct me to the back of the library? I’m supposed to be meeting someone, and I have no clue how to get there.” Your voice was timid.

“(Y/n) (y/l/n)?” She asked.

You gulped and nodded.

A smile spread across her face. “Mr. Wayne told me to be on the watch for you. If you walk straight ahead and take the right at the end of the corridor, and take a left at the end of that corridor, you’ll get there.”

“Thank you.” You said, and began walking away.

“Miss (Y/L/N)?” She called after you.

You turned.

“Forgive me if I’m intruding on anything, but may I ask why Mr. Wayne had such a sparkle in his eye when he talked about you?”

You shook your head. “I have no idea ma’am. I’ve been nothing but an asshole to him.”

The librarian laughed lightly. “Enjoy your date.”

You felt too awkward to correct her, so you just followed her directions, walking faster and faster, your face flushed with embarrassment.

Keep walking. Right. Keep walking. Left. Keep walking.

You were faced with a medium sized room with five large, round tables. Damian was sitting at the one on the left, already working on the project. You saw him reach into a brown paper bag and pull out a few fries before he stuffed them into his mouth. You smiled.

“Damian Wayne?! Eating fast food? But that would ruin his perfect figure!”

Damian looked up at you. He snorted. “A few fries won’t kill me.”

You sat down at the table and looked over his work so far. “Maybe.”

“Where would you like to start?” He asked.

“I’ll gather some quotes and sources first and if I have extra time I’ll read over the intro of our essay.” You decided.

Damian nodded.

The hours flew by. You and Damian only engaged in a few short sentences of conversation, but this time it was comfortable. The fast food was finished off quickly, but you would absentmindedly reach into the bag anyways, only to be disappointed when you found it empty.

It was from then on that you found yourself in an actual friendship with Damian Wayne, not faked and not forced. Every other afternoon was spent in the back section of the library, eating various assortments of food and working on your project.

 

* * *

 

You were halfway through the third section of your project when you finally asked Damian the questioning you’d been pondering for a few days now.

“Would you like to work on the project at my place one day?”

Damian looked up, clearly surprised by your offer. “If that’s what you would like, I’d be happy to oblige.”

You chuckled at how formal he always sounded. You knew that that was his equivalent of ‘yeah, sure, I’d love to come hang out,’ but you still found it entertaining. “Cool.”

Damian nodded and returned to his work. A few minutes of silence passed before you filled it once again with your mindless chatter. “Would Monday work?”

“It depends, how long would I be staying?” Damian asked, his gaze still on his paper.

“As long as you want.” You replied, admiring his hair.

Damian nodded and you ripped your gaze away from his gorgeous figure to continue your work.

On Friday, Damian informed you that he’d be busy all week, and would only be able to meet on Saturday. You’d replied that it was fine and he could come over at noon on Saturday so the two of you could get some work done.

 

* * *

 

“Hey Mom, Dad!” You yelled down the stairs, suddenly remembering that you’d forgot to tell them Damian was coming over. You rushed down the stairs, calling for them again.

‘What, (y/n)?” Your dad asked. Your mother looked concerned.

“I am so sorry, I completely forgot to tell you that my science partner is coming over soon so we can work on the project. You know, the year-long one I’ve been complaining about.” You rushed.

Your mom looked alarmed, but your dad had the same stoic expression as always.

“What’s her name?” He asked.

You gulped. “His.”

“Oh.” Was all he said. Your mom looked even more alarmed, and you were worried that she might turn into a smoke detector soon. “What’s his name then?”

“It’s Damian. Damian Wayne.” You squeaked. You knew exactly how they would react and you weren’t disappointed when your mother screeched,

“WHAT!?”

You lowered your gaze, convinced that if you stared at the floor hard enough, it would disappear out from under you, and you could leave the impending glare coming from your father and the panicked screeching coming from your mother.

“DAMIAN _WAYNE_?”

You nodded. You looked to your dad for help, but found none. His expression was the embodiment of _Sorry, you dug yourself this hole, you have to figure out how to get out of it yourself._

“WHEN IS HE COMING?”

“Noon,” you whispered.

You didn’t think your mom’s voice could go any higher as she screeched about the house being a mess and them only having three hours. You contemplated telling her that Damian probably didn’t care but... you didn’t know Damian that well and who knows? He might be a complete neat freak.

Your mom was directing everyone around the house in moments. You were to clean your room to absolute perfection and then mop the floors of the entire house. Your sister, who complained about not being apart of this at all, had to sweep the floors and clean the kitchen. Your dad was stuck vacuuming the carpets and dusting, while your mom made sure everything else was perfectly pristine.

At one point while you were cleaning, you heard your sister complain to your mother.

“Why are you freaking out so much? It’s just a guy.” She added to the end of her long complaint about being woken up from her beauty rest to clean the floors that were fine as they were.

You could practically hear the steam coming from your mom’s ears and you grimaced. Mentally, you were telling your sister to run.

“JUST A GUY?! No no no no, your sister didn’t invite just any guy to our house, she invited DAMIAN FUCKING WAYNE! ONLY THE SON OF THE MOST WELL KNOWN PERSON IN NOT JUST GOTHAM, BUT THE THREE CITIES SURROUNDING IT AS WELL! THIS “GUY’S” FATHER IS A BILLIONAIRE AND IF THIS HOUSE ISN’T _SPOTLESS_ BY NOON I WILL PERSONALLY HAVE ALL OF YOUR HEADS!”

You cringed, wishing that you had a time machine so you could go back in time and tell your parents that Damian was coming over much earlier. Or to, at least, lie about his last name.

At 11:30, your mom realized that there was no edible food in the house. This followed with her pulling out a piece of paper from a cookbook, sticking it in your face and telling you to make “these.” When you looked at it, you saw that it was the homemade cookie recipe your aunt had given your mother for Christmas last year. You groaned quietly, careful not to let your mom hear you in case she began yelling at you again. The only issue was, you’d made these before and discovered that you were absolutely terrible at baking.

You got out the materials, sugar— normal and brown—, the flour, egg, an absurd amount of butter and chocolate chips, baking soda and salt. You began mixing it together according to what the recipe said. You noted the time, 11:54. _Shit_. You stirred faster. The kitchen was a mess, and you knew your mom would have a conniption fit if Damian arrived before you cleaned it. You stirred even faster, begging the chocolate chips to mix in with the dough.

11:58

You pulled out a baking pan and parchment paper, grabbing small handfuls of the dough and forming them into small spheres, cursing under your breath as the dough stuck to your hands.

“(Y/N)!” Your mother called. “Are the cookies done?”

“Not quite!”

11:59

You still had half a bowl of dough and an entire kitchen to clean.

12:00

You cursed as the clock numbers changed. If there was one thing you could expect from Damian Wayne, it was timing. The doorbell rang. You still had your hands covered in dough, and you were mentally freaking out; looking at the kitchen in panic and hearing the door open.

“Hello.” Damian’s voice was smooth as always, rich and proper. “Are you Mrs. (Y/L/N)?”

Your mother, miraculously, didn’t faint on the spot. “I am. Please, come in Mr. Wayne.”

You cringed.

“Please, call me Damian. Mr. Wayne is my father.” You were distracted by his beautiful voice, and the goop of dough you were currently molding fell from your fingers.

“Shit.” You whispered. You threw that piece in the trash and quickly washed your hands. Right as you returned to the cookies, Damian and your mom walked into the kitchen. You could hear your mom’s internal screaming about the mess in the kitchen.

You turned to Damian. “Hey, Damian.”

“(Y/n).” He returned. The air was hot and awkward all of the sudden.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Your mom asked him. You gave Damian a look, begging him to just go with it.

“Yes, I’d love some water.”

 _Thank you_ , you mouthed. He nodded, the hints of a smirk on his face.

Your mom handed him the water just as you finished rolling up all of the dough. You carefully put the pans into the oven, your hands shaking for no reason. Your mom excused herself to go get your dad.

Damian chuckled quietly the second she was out of range.

“Shut up.”

“Are you making cookies?’ He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

You walked hurriedly to stand in front of him at the counter, you dropped your voice low. “I may or may not have forgotten to mention that you were coming over until three hours ago.”

There was something about the way Damian’s face formed as he leaned his head back and laughed, and your heart melted just a bit. “You remind me of Dick.”

“Sorry?” You said quickly, taken aback by his statement.

“My brother, Dick. Something about you is so much like him.” He clarified.

You sighed, “I’m glad?”

“Don’t worry, it’s a good thing. He’s my favorite brother.”

“How many do you have?” You found yourself asking as you wet a paper towel to clean up the mess on the counters.

“I’m the youngest of six. Three older brothers and two older sisters, though Stephanie and Cassandra moved away years ago.”

You whistled. “I have Sophie and that’s too much to deal with as it is.”

“Sophie?” He asked, an eyebrow raised.

“My younger sister, she’s a pain.”

Damian nodded. After a few moments he walked around the counter and began helping you clean without a word. You wanted to stop him, but for whatever reason, you couldn’t. He was so incredibly close to you...

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)! WHAT ARE YOU DOING, MAKING HIM CLEAN UP YOUR MESS?” Your mother stormed into the kitchen and snatched the towel from Damian’s hands. And poor Damian was left standing there dumbfounded as your mother tore into you about manners and proper etiquette when guests are visiting.

Once she was done, she turned to Damian with the sweetest smile, “I’m so sorry, Damian. Why don’t you sit down, the cookies will be ready shortly.” You noticed that your dad had entered the room.

Damian looked shocked. He turned to you slowly. He leaned in slightly, just enough to mask his voice from your parents. “Sorry.” His hand brushed your hip, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine.

“It’s ok. Go sit down.” You responded, your voice just as quiet as his. He did and you continued cleaning the kitchen, your thoughts numb with the feeling of his hand on your side and the realization that you and Damian had just had the longest conversation of your entire friendship with him. You realized a lot in the next few minutes you spent wiping flour off the floor and cleaning out the butter from one of the measuring cups. Damian was speaking politely with your father and mother. His voice was as formal as ever, but you’d just heard him use what could be called a casual tone with you. You’d made him laugh, a _heartfelt_ laugh and you’d never heard anything like it. In fact, you’d never seen Damian laugh before. You learned more about Damian Wayne in the two minutes you spent in your kitchen than the many hours spent in the library together.

You finished cleaning and checked the cookies. Two minutes, you guessed. Damian was still chatting politely with your dad; your mom was standing off to the side, glaring at you. You glanced around. The kitchen was clean again... you mentally shrugged and went to join Damian and your dad. They were having an in-depth conversation about business practices.

Your mom coughed. You sighed and walked over to her.

“What in the world were you thinking, making cookies right before Damian was to get here?” She whispered to you, her voice harsh.

You refrained from correcting her, “I don’t know. I figured he might like cookies.” You glanced at Damian. His head was titled in a way that made it clear he was listening to your conversation, not the one he was holding with your dad.

“Well, next time, don’t. Take them out of the oven and let them cool for at least twenty minutes.”

You nodded and did as she said. The cookies were a beautiful golden color and you could feel everyone’s eyes on you, especially Damian’s. Suddenly, you were very conscious of the mediocre outfit you wore. You plastered a smile on your face before turning to Damian.

“We have to wait for them to cool. Do you want to bring your stuff upstairs in the meantime?”

Damian’s was response was so obviously faked and chiseled down to your parents’ expectations of him. You guided him upstairs towards your bedroom.

“Sorry, it’s not much and it’s probably tiny compared to yours but...” You mumbled as you walked into your bedroom.

“It is, but I prefer it. Your sense of design is... impressive.” Damian replied, looking around at your room.

“Thanks,” you responded, feeling your face heat up a bit at the compliment. You closed your door, knowing your mom would hate it. The second it closed, Damian’s gaze turned sharp.

“Is she always like that?” He asked, his voice quiet but insistent.

You snorted. “No, not at all, but she freaks out when company comes over. She’s going a bit over the top this time though... the second she heard your last name...”

Damian nodded. “I’m sorry for getting you yelled at, it wasn’t my intention.”

You smiled softly, warmed by his apology. “It’s fine, Damian. As I said, my mom isn’t always like that, just when a Wayne happens to be in the house.”

Damian nodded. After a moment he spoke again. “May I sit?” He was gesturing at your bed.

“Oh, yeah, go ahead.” You rushed. You contemplated sitting on the bed with him or at your desk. You opted for your desk as you pulled out the swivel chair and turned to face him.

“So, do you want to listen to music or anything while we work? I have a pretty sweet speaker.” You suggested, speaking only to fill the awkward silence.

For a moment, Damian didn’t reply. “I don’t listen to music. I find it a distraction.”

Your jaw dropped at this. “What?”

“I apologize if this offends you...” His voice trailed off.

“No, no, it’s okay, I just don’t understand. How is it a distraction?”

Damian looked at you, “I suppose I get distracted by the lyrics and beats and I can’t focus on anything else. The only time I ever listen to music is when I’m painting.”

You blinked. “You paint?”

“Yes, I believe one of my pieces is displayed in the east wing hallway at our school. It’s certainly not my best, but the art teacher seemed to like it. I dropped out of art not long after that.” He replied.

You stood numbly from your chair and walked away. You vaguely heard Damian calling after you, wondering where you were going. Not two minutes later you returned to a dumbfounded Damian, a canvas, paints, and brushes in your hands. You set them down.

“My sister paints some. She’s not very good, but she likes it so we encourage her.” You paused. “Would you paint something while we wait for the cookies to cool?”

Damian looked surprised. “You want me to..?”

“I mean, you don’t have to” You said hurriedly,

Damian moved to the paints and brushes. “These materials are mediocre, at best.”

You snorted, “Well, not all of us can afford paints that cost more than we do.”

Damian’s gaze snapped to you, clearly taken aback by your statement. “No... I suppose not.” He said after a while. “Does your sister have an easel?”

“Uh... yeah. One second.” You jogged to her room to retrieve it. When you came back, you saw that Damian was organizing the paints and brushes. You smiled.

“Here.” You set it down awkwardly in front of him. “What are you going to paint?”

Damian paused. “I was wondering if... perhaps... if you would allow it... I could paint you.”

Your eyes widened and you found yourself nodding before even considering what you’d just agreed to. Numbly, you listened as he directed you on where to sit and how to sit and everything else he needed you to do. You were sure the cookies were cool by now, but Damian had a gleam in his eye as he picked up a paintbrush that you couldn’t bring yourself to put out. You saw his arm move slightly as he brought the tip of the paint coated brush down on the canvas and dragged it slowly.

You sat there for forty minutes, unmoving, watching Damian’s chiseled face as he slowly painted you. Your mind drifted to many places, like to what you could be doing if you hadn’t gotten the paints. How far you’d be into he project and the amount of cookies you would’ve eaten by now. Your mind also wandered to how good Damian was at painting. Was he terrible and the art teacher only displayed his work because he was a Wayne? Was he amazing? What did he think you looked like? Did he have a unique painting style, like Van Gogh? What if the painting of you looked ridiculous? You also grew self-conscious as you realized that in order to paint your face, he’d be staring at it for a long time. Same with... well everything else about you. Was he painting your room behind you? On the outside, you stayed as still and stoic as ever, but on the inside you were racing, trying to outrun every thought that filled your mind.

“Done.” Damian stated and your eyes focused on him. He had a satisfied look about him and you stood. He held out a hand, fingers splayed. “Why don’t we get those cookies first? Then you can see your portrait.”

You raised an eyebrow but nodded nonetheless. You trotted down the stairs, Damian following close behind you. You reached the kitchen and quickly grabbed two paper plates from the cabinet. You handed one to him. “Get as many as you like, I made a few to many.”

Damian nodded and took one, two, three, four, five, six cookies. You wanted to comment on it, but then you remembered that he was sixteen and, while you had already grown, Damian was still growing despite the fact that he was well over six feet in height. You took three cookies and a glass of milk.

“Are you guys getting your work done?” Your mom called from the living room.

“Yep!” You exclaimed in response before gesturing Damian up the steps.

Damian sat down on your bed and bit into a cookie. His eyes closed for a moment and you looked at him in anticipation. “These are... truly amazing.”

“Really?” You asked.

He nodded, “Don’t tell Alfred, but I think they might be better than his.”

“Alfred?” You questioned.

“He’s our butler.” Damian responded, as if that explained everything.

“Of course, you can’t have a billionaire family without a butler.” You retorted. Your muscles were itching to move you towards the painting, but Damian’s gaze kept your feet planted where they were.

Damian chuckled, “Naturally.” After a moment he gestured to the painting, “Are you going to look at it?”

That set your feet into motion, you set your plate and glass down on the bedside table and moved to look at it. What you saw took your breath away. Sitting daintily on the easel was a canvas covered in the brightest of colors. It was your face, but captured in a way you could never have imagined. Your hair spilled around your shoulders in a way that made it look like it floated but rested at the same time. He’d highlighted your cheekbones and nose with a lighter color paint than he’d used for your normal skin tone and darkened the shadows of your face. He’d painted your eyelashes in a unique way, making them long and full, casting gentle shadows onto your cheeks. Your lips and eyes struck out the most to you. He’d used brighter colors on them than any other place in the painting, accenting your features in a flattering way that made you look far too beautiful.

“Do you like it?’ Damian’s voice was timid and almost inaudible.

You tore your eyes away from the painting, “Dami, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

The relief was evident on his face, but then he visibly paused. “What... what did you just call me?” His voice wasn’t harsh, just unsure.

“Uh... Damian?” You responded.

Damian nodded slowly, “Could’ve sworn you just called me Dami.” He muttered.

Except, you weren’t paying attention, your eyes were fixed on the painting again. “Do you really think I’m this pretty?”

Damian was on his feet in an instant, looking over your shoulder at the painting and then back to you. “I don’t _think_ you are that pretty, (y/n). You _are_ that pretty.”

His face was so incredibly close to yours and his words spoken so softly. His eyes sparkled and his lips were parted slightly. His hand suddenly touched yours and you backed away, tripping over the chair behind you and falling ungraciously. Damian cursed.

“Are you okay?” He asked, bending down to help you up.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” You said, ignoring his hand as you stood, rubbing your forearm.

You could feel Damian’s concerned gaze on yours, looking you up and down. You avoided looking at him, instead opting to excuse yourself to the bathroom. You were out of the room before he could say anything else.

In the bathroom, you looked at yourself in the mirror as the last hour came flooding back to you. Damian’s arrival, the way his hand brushed your hip in the kitchen while his voice, low and husky, apologized to you, the way his eyes traced your skin when he was painting you, how his eyes closed in bliss when he bit into your cookies, the amazing way his face contorted when he laughed, such a rare but beautiful thing, and how his face was a mere inches from yours only moments ago.

You cursed. “Friends not soulmates,” you recited to yourself. It had become a motto of yours, whenever you found yourself thinking about Damian in a... romantic-esque way.

You took and deep breath and washed your hands, splashing some of the water up onto your face. You needed to take a step back. Damian had come here to work on the science project, yet the two of you had hardly looked at the project since he’d arrived. You resolved to refocusing on the project.

When you entered your room again, Damian was sitting on your bed, a pencil in hand but nothing written. His green gaze latched onto you. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft, melting the solid facade you were attempting to put on.

“I’m fine, just needed a break.” You said, sitting down on the bed and grabbing a pencil. “Where are we going to start?”

The next few hours flew by as you and Damian settled into to an easy series of work followed by a few sentences. Before you knew it, the third section was completely finished. As Damian re-wrote the last sentence, you held your breath. He leaned back, a satisfied expression on his face and you released the breath.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over the feeling of finishing a part of this project.” you commented. Damian nodded.

“I will call Alfred to let him know he can pick me up now.” Damian said, as curt as ever.

You felt a pang in your chest, but you didn’t know why. You nodded, acknowledging Damian’s statement. You looked to the painting. “Are you going to bring your painting home?”

Damian tensed, “I’ve been thinking about that... perhaps you should keep it, it is your face, after all.”

“I don’t know where I’d put it.” You said. You were certainly not keeping it in your room. As much as you loved the way the painting looked, it was your face and it felt egotistical to put it up on your wall.

“There’s space on the kitchen wall.” Damian suggested.

You blinked. “Okay...”

Damian picked up his phone and held it to his ear.

“Yes, I’d like to be picked up now.”  
“Yes, Alfred, I am old enough.”  
“Bruce won’t let me.”  
“Thank you.”  
Damian paused for a long time, and you wondered what the man on the other end of the line could be saying.  
“I’ll ask.”  
Damian lowered the phone.

“Will you be inviting me over again?”

You paused, blinked. “Uh... if the need arises?”

Damian nodded. He put the phone back to his ear.

“Perhaps.”  
“Will do.”  
“Alfred, you and father should know well enough by now that me inviting her over will result in her meeting all of my siblings.”  
“Yes, that’s a bad thing, they’re worse than fleas.” Damian sounded exasperated.  
“Thank you, Alfred. I’ll make sure to say my goodbyes accordingly.”

Damian hung up and began gathering his stuff, not bothering to explain any of the conversation, leaving you to guess.

You picked up a few things and handed them to him. Before you knew it, Damian’s phone lit up with another text.

“Alfred is here. I have to go.” He said, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Thanks for coming.” You responded out of habit.

Damian looked to you, “Thank you for having me, (y/n). I enjoyed our time together and would like it if we could do it again. I would invite you to my house, but my brothers would never leave us alone.”

You laughed quietly, “Maybe one day.”

“Maybe.” And with that, Damian was out the door, and you watched from the top of the stairs as he glided down the steps, said goodbye to your mother and father and then was gone.

You stumbled back to your room. For a moment, you just stood there, unsure of what to do. You grabbed the painting that still sat on the easel and carried it downstairs. You grabbed and tack from a drawer and pressed it firmly into the wall. Gently and slowly, you put the painting on it. You took at step back and sighed. The painting of you was far to beautiful.

Your thoughts drifted as you stood there, finding their way to Damian’s beautiful face.

You snapped out of it as you heard your phone ding from upstairs. You jogged to get it and saw a text from Damian.

**I forgot to inform you that I won’t be at school**  
**this week due to a trip my father and I are going on.**

**OK, I’ll present the project anyways on Tuesday.**

You felt that was the proper response, but when Damian Wayne was involved, what was?

 

* * *

 

Damian started coming over to your place more often, usually just on Saturdays, but you found he was there more often than you had expected when you first invited him over. You never made cookies again, though you and Damian would occasionally grab ice cream from the freezer to eat while you worked. Damian would paint on occasion, bringing his own supplies that resulted in paintings even more beautiful than the first one he’d done at you house, though he disagreed.

“Nothing I paint will ever be as pretty as you,” Damian would say in one of his rare moments of flirting.

He’d painted a field, a pair of birds, a sunset, and a crude painting of his brothers. That one was your favorite because it showed no artistic talent other than Damian’s loathing for his brothers. All of the paintings ended up being hung in your bedroom, you loved them so much.

Today, your dad popped his head into your room as Damian was showing you the piece he’d just finished painting— a landscape of Gotham city. He was standing so close to you, as he always did when he showed you his work.

“I hope I’m not interrupting something?” Your dad asked. Damian jumped away from you.

“Nope,” you chirped. “Damian was just showing me his painting.”

Your dad hummed and stepped in to look at it. He whistled at the site of the contrasting dark colors, so different from the bright colors Damian typically used. “I’m starting to think you should become a painter, Damian, instead of taking over your father’s company.”

“Who’s to say I can’t do both?” Damian replied, his head tilted in pride.

“Life, typically.” You father replied. You laughed. “Are you two getting any actual work done?”

You nodded, “We just finished half of the work, and it’s due two weeks from now.”

“Good. Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Your dad said, and left the room.

It was silent for a moment as you continued to admire Damian’s painting.

Damian glanced at you. “I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now, however it has never seemed like the right time, but...”

You sucked in a breath at what Damian was about to say.

“Your parents don’t know, do they? That we’re... what we are.”

You almost laughed. “No, they don’t know. My sister knows that my soulmate’s name is Damian, but she doesn’t know it’s you. Since we’re the only ones who can see the tattoos... well it means I get to keep my secrets to myself.”

“How does your sister not know?” Damian was closer to you than he’d been earlier, his muscular chest just inches from your back as he looked over your shoulder at his painting, or your face. You couldn’t tell.

“You’re not the first Damian I’ve met, she doesn’t assume anything now. She did ask me though, if you were my soulmate. I told her no, but I don’t know if she believed me.”

Damian’s breath was on your neck. “My family doesn’t know either. I never actually met them until I was ten, and by then I knew not to tell them your name.” His voice was so low, so husky.

“Damian?” You asked, not sure what you were going to say next.

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad we’ve become... closer. Thanks for giving me a second chance after I was a complete asshole to you.”

“I’m glad as well. Every moment I spend with you... it’s enjoyable.”

Your shoulders were tense as Damian spoke. You didn’t know what you wanted anymore. Did you want to be friends with him? Did you want to be something more? Damian Wayne was something different from what you knew what to do with. He could go from flirtatious to stoic in the blink of an eye. His lips looked so soft but his eyes would flash with a type of danger in them that scared you. He was a genius, and over the weeks you’d learned he was immensely arrogant, but when you stood in front of his artwork he seemed like a small child begging silently for your approval. Damian Wayne was a puzzle you could never solve, but right now? As he stood so close behind you, his breath against your neck, you felt as if you’d just been handed one of the answers.

Damian’s hands drifted up your sides and you shivered at the physical contact he was making. This was the most he’d ever touched you, the closest he’d ever been. His hands were on your shoulders now, massaging them gently. You sighed into his touch.

“You are so tense,” he whispered. “Take a deep breath, (y/n).”

You did as he told you and found yourself with your eyes closed as he rubbed circles into your slowly relaxing shoulders.

“Tomorrow, some of my family are going out of town... it’ll just be Dick and I for the day. I was wondering if you’d like to come over. We don’t have to work on our project, I just figured meeting my brothers slowly would be best.”

“It sounds like a great idea. I’ll ask my parents before you leave. If you’re there, they might not say no.”

Damian hummed and kept massaging your shoulders. You sighed again, finding that you liked the way his big, strong hands felt on your skin. You wanted to ask him what had changed, why he was being so physical and flirtatious, but you were afraid. You didn’t want the moment to end.

The term ‘Friends not Soulmates’ popped into your mind as Damian kept massaging your shoulders. Suddenly, you realized that maybe becoming close was inevitable. He was your soulmate for a reason. You discovered that being friends didn’t take up much time, and maybe being in a relationship wouldn’t hurt. Right as you were about to tell him this, Damian’s phone began ringing.

He moved away to answer it and you found your back exposed to the now chilly air.

“Yes?” Damian said, answering the phone.  
“Is it really?” You saw him glance at the clock.  
“Shit, I wasn’t paying attention to the time. I’ll be right out.”  
“Sorry, Alfred, I know. Sometimes it just slips out.”

Damian hung up the phone. “Alfred is here to pick me up. I think I should start driving myself here so I can stay as long as I want.” He chuckled and began gathering his stuff.

“What was that last part about?” You asked, taking his brushes out of the water and drying them off for him.

“That? Oh, Alfred doesn’t like it when we cuss. I’ve never understood it, personally, but he makes our dinners so we pay attention.” Damian answered. You noticed how casual his sentences were and smiled.

You finished wrapping up his brushes and paints and handed them to him. He stuffed them in his bag and thanked you. You followed him downstairs, barely remembering to catch his arm before he opened the door.

Damian looked at you quizzically. “We forgot to ask if I could go to your place tomorrow.” You reminded him. He nodded and walked with you back to the living room where your father sat, watching the news.

“Hey, dad?”

Your dad turned to you. You were suddenly aware that you were still holding Damian’s forearm. You dropped it.

“Damian invited me to his place tomorrow, I was wondering if I could go. I’d only stay for a few hours or so. Maybe less.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow. “It’s fine with me, but ask your mom first.”

Damian’s phone dinged.

“I have to go.” Damian said, looking back to the two of you. “Just text me about what she says. If you can’t come, it’s fine. I’m sure we can find another day when two of my brothers aren’t home.”

You nodded. “See you around, Damian.”

“Goodbye, (y/n).” Damian replied before exiting your house.

“He’s a good man,” your dad commented, “I wouldn’t be opposed to the two of you dating, if it ever comes to that.”

Your face flushed bright red. “Dad!”

“What?”

You sighed, unable to contradict him. “Just don’t tell mom what you think, she’ll skip right to the wedding bells.”

Your dad laughed, “Don’t worry, I don’t think she’s noticed the way he looks at you quite yet. But she will eventually.”

“What way?” You snapped.

“You don’t see it?” Your dad asked, turning to look at you straight on.

“See what?” You asked him quietly, afraid of what he might say next.

“Oh, baby girl, you don’t see that he’s clearly in love with you.”

 

* * *

 

Your dad dropped you off at Damian’s house the next day, however your mind was still reeling from what your dad had told you.

He was sitting in the car as you rang the doorbell of the massive house. Suddenly, you were glad that your mom had a hair appointment, otherwise she’d be trying to go into the house with you.

“I’ll get it Damian!” You heard a voice yell from the other side of the doors. You looked back worriedly at your dad.

“No, Dick! I’ve got it!” Damian’s voice yelled, quieter.

The door swung open and you were met with a mischievous, lean figure that had messy black hair and a smile worth millions. You immediately knew that this was Dick, there was no doubt about it.

You saw Damian behind Dick, sliding down the handrail of the stairs and running to the door, coming to a stop by his older brother. “Dick, I swear. She’s my friend, at least let me answer the door for her.”

Dick ruffled Damian’s hair despite being at least seven inches shorter. It was only then, in the presence of Dick that you actually realized how _tall_ Damian was, scaling in at about 6 foot 5.

You cleared your throat, reminding the brothers that you were still there. “Can I come in?”

Dick laughed and opened the door for you, stepping out of the way. “Course. I’m Dick Grayson, by the way, Damian’s older brother.”

You smiled, “I know. I’m (y/n), in case you haven’t been told that yet.”

“Oh, I have, trust me. All Damian has done this morning is talk about you.”  
Dick began. You saw Damian’s ears go red. “(Y/n)’s coming over today, Dick. Don’t be an asshole, Dick. Could you get lunch for (y/n) and me if we get hungry later? You sure Jason and Tim won’t be coming back today, (y/n)’s coming over.” Dick imitated Damian using a terribly high pitched voice. You laughed.

“I’m glad you find my suffering amusing.” Damian grumbled. You bumped him with your shoulder.

“I seem to remember someone laughing at me the first time they came over.” You reminded him.

“That’s different.” Damian began to complain. You saw a smirk on Dick’s face as he looked at the two of you. “You weren’t being tortured mentally by your non-biological older brother.”

“No, I wasn’t. But I was being tortured by my mother’s wrath when she heard your last name followed by ‘coming over at noon.’” You retorted.

Damian grumbled, but you knew you’d won this round.

“So, are we going to go to your room and hang out like I’ve been here a million times or are you going to give me a tour of your house?” You asked him, as Dick slipped away to go do some unknown task. You were looking around at the room you were in, thoroughly impressed by its sheer size.

“Which would you prefer?” Damian asked.

You chose the tour and Damian led you through the many grand rooms of his house before stopping at the door to his bedroom.

He opened the door for you and you noted that his room alone was bigger than your living room. It wasn’t decorated with much, but there was an easel sitting in the corner and a unsheathed sword on the wall. One painting of a crane rested on the wall above his bed. And holy shit, his bed. If there was a size bigger than a King, this was it. It was huge. Spread graciously over it were gray and red sheets and comforter. Pillows in grey pillowcases lined with red sat at the head of his bed. It looked softer than a cloud. “Holy shit.” You whispered.

Damian chuckled and closed the door behind the two of you as you stumbled into his bedroom. You turned to him, a childish smile on your face. He furrowed his brow, confused.

You took a running start and launched yourself onto his bed, no longer caring about anything at all. The bed was just as soft as it looked as you landed on it. You rolled over. “Damian, your bed is amazing.” You said after the silence in the room got awkward.

You lifted your head to see Damian still looking surprised, standing by the door where you’d left him. You got off it and crossed the room over to meet him.

“You good?” You asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

He grabbed it. “I’m fine. I just... didn’t know what to expect when you came over. This was not it.”

He was holding onto your hand tightly, and you flinched. He saw your reaction and immediately dropped your hand, looking at the floor in between you. “Sorry.”

You moved back to his bed and patted the fluff next to you as you sat down. Damian did as he was told and sat down, still avoiding your gaze.

“Dami...” You whispered, realizing too late what you’d called him.

He looked to you, his green depths meeting your eyes, an indescribable softness on his face.

“Why don’t we do something? We can talk about things we like or, I don’t know, play a board game if you have any.”

Hours passed, and the tenseness between you and Damian had dissolved into a light banter over board games and snacks. Now, you laid on his bed staring up at the ceiling. Damian was putting away the board game you’d just won, before he plopped down on the bed next to you.

You took a deep breath, thinking back on the conversation you’d had with your dad the night before. You slid your hand over a few inches, pausing for a moment in uncertainty before moving it all the way over. Your fingers brushed Damian’s knuckles and you heard him inhale sharply. His gaze was on you, you could feel it burning a hole in your skull. Then, ever so slowly, his hand moved back to yours. His fingers slid in between yours and you finally looked at him, coming face to face with his worried face. His hand was warm, and much bigger than yours, covering your hand.

“(Y/n)...” He whispered.

You closed your eyes and whispered his name back to him. His hand tightened in yours.

“What are you trying to say?” He asked after a moment.

“I’m willing to... try this whole... relationship... thing.” you spit out the words slowly, not sure how to phrase them. “Not as soulmates... just as two friends giving whatever connection it is that we have.... a chance.”

_Knock, knock, knock._

You jolted up out of the bed, snatching your hand away from Damian’s. Damian had done the same and was standing on the other side of the bed, his posture stiff.

“Hey you two! I’m not going to open this door in case you guys are doing something I don’t want to see, but (y/n)’s dad is here to pick her up!” Dick yelled from the other side of the door.

Damian pulled open the door quickly. “We’re not having sex, Dick. We just finished playing Monopoly.”

Your face flushed at Damian’s harsh, blunt tone. The way he threw around his words. Mentally, you were pretty sure the feeling you’d gotten from holding Damian’s hand was similar to sex, but that was probably an overstatement. You grabbed your phone from Damian’s desk.

“Good to know my lil’ bro’s still a virgin.” Dick replied, a childish smile playing on his lips.

Damian whispered something to Dick that you couldn’t hear, but it must have been a challenge because Dick’s eyes lit up. “I’d like to see you try, squirt.”

You coughed again, feeling a sense of deja vu. “You guys are blocking the doorway again.” You informed them. They moved instantly and you found yourself saying goodbye to Dick and Damian and leaving the mansion to get in your dad’s car.

Only on the way back did it hit you that you and Damian were in a relationship of sorts now. He’d never verbally confirmed it, but the text he sent you was all the confirmation you needed.

**I’ll see you at school tomorrow. Maybe we**  
**can talk before classes start about our new**  
**status without my annoying older brother**  
**barging in.**

**Sounds like a plan <3**

**Bout to beat him up. If I come in with**  
**bruises tomorrow, you’ll know why.**

You laughed quietly, and plopped down on your bed, a undampenable smile on your face. 

 

* * *

 

The next day was a sight to see.

Damian Wayne wasn’t wearing his normal baggy jeans and hoodie.

No, he was wearing tight skinny jeans and a white t-shirt that clung to his form, showing off every muscle on his build. You weren’t complaining.

“Hey,” he greeted, stopping by your locker, a thing he’d never done before. You were surprised he even knew where your locker was.

“Hey, Dami.” You greeted in return, not looking at him because you were busy trying to fix your locker shelf so all of your books didn’t fall out on top of you.

After a moment of silence, Damian offered to help you.

“Please. My locker hates me.” You responded, taking a step back to let him help. And when you did...

“Damian Wayne what the fuck are you wearing?” You exclaimed, earning laughs from the many girls in the hallway who had probably noticed Damian’s outfit the second he put it on.

You saw Damian’s face flush. “Dick stole all of my clothes as a prank for me beating him up. These are Jason’s.”

You threw your head back and laughed. Damian had fixed your locker shelf and was now glaring at you.

“This isn’t funny.”

“No... no it’s hilarious.” You responded. Your hand went out and pulled at the fabric on his shoulder. “Those poor seams.”

He swatted your hand away, his face getting redder by the second. Meanwhile, you— and everyone else in visible range, male or female— were thoroughly admiring Damian’s gorgeous figure. Every single muscle that was usually hidden by the hoodies he always wore, were showcased marvelously by the t-shirt. For once, you could actually see his arm muscles, which were enough to make anyone drool, but it was the perfectly toned pecs and abs that were really the icing on top. Your eyes continued looking over him, taking a liberty you hadn’t before. Maybe it was because you guys were— maybe— in a relationship now and thirsting over his muscles felt okay now. Or perhaps it was just that he was so goddamn beautiful that you didn’t care. Your eyes landed on one last feature you hadn’t noticed before, his hip bones. You couldn’t even go into detail about _those_ before Damian cut into your train of thought.

“Are you going to keep staring at me?” Damian asked quietly, his voice harsh with embarrassment.

You nodded, now admiring his biceps.

Damian groaned.

“I’m sorry, Damian, but you can’t come into school wearing something like that and not expect everyone to be staring.”

He leaned in, “I was hoping you’d be the exception.”

“Uh... no. I’m just going to laugh at you while I do it.” You clarified. “Is that really the only clothes you could find that would fit?”

A momentary storm seemed to rage in Damian’s eyes. “My tallest family member is my father and Jason comes in second, but Jason is much more muscular than my father. Besides, all my father does is wear suits and that wouldn’t have been much better.”

You smirked, “Does your brother really wear skinny jeans?”

“These aren’t skinny jeans.”

That’s when you lost it, laughing loudly and hard enough to catch the attention of anyone not paying attention. You leaned against a locker for support. “Those aren’t skinny jeans?”

Damian shook his head slightly.

“Oh, please tell me that when Jason wears that shirt, it’s not tight.”

Damian was silent. You could see how embarrassed he was, and frankly you felt bad.

“Okay... okay big guy.” You said through your tears of laughter. “Why don’t we ditch first period and get you some new clothes? We’ll just be working on our project all class anyways, and we’re ahead of schedule. It won’t hurt and you can buy some less... revealing clothing.”

The relief on Damian’s face was so obvious. “Really?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah, really. You look miserable.”

“Thank you.”

————————————————————————————————————

You sat outside a changing room, waiting for Damian to come out with yet another outfit. The door unlocked and you stood up.

He wore jeans that fit his figure well, but not too well, a black t-shirt and a army green bomber jacket.

“Is it comfortable?” You asked him.

He nodded.

“Cool, why don’t you get that. It looks good.”

Damian sighed. “Do I have to change out of it to check out?”

“Nah, just tell them your last name and put an absurd amount of money in the tip jar, you’ll be fine.”

Damian smiled. “Thanks for coming with me, you have no idea how uncomfortable it was at school.”

“Yeah, but I got a nice look at your abs.” You replied, not thinking about your answer.

“Everyone with _eyes_ got a nice look at my abs.” Damian grumbled.

The two of you walked to the checkout counter. Damian ripped the tags of his clothes on put them on the counter. “I’d like to check out this outfit.”

The poor checkout man raised an eyebrow, “Sir, usually you take off the outfit before you buy it.”

You snorted. “He’s a special case, just let him check it out as is and he’ll tip you well.”

The guy began ringing up the outfit. You turned to Damian. “Why do you always wear hoodies and stuff? I mean, most guys at our school would kill for muscles like that. Why not show them off?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but people already stare at me for my last name and my face. The second I show off anything else it’s like I’m the fucking Mona Lisa.” Damian deadpanned. The cashier snorted.

“Fair enough, Dami.”

“When did you start calling me Dami?” He asked.

You shrugged, “Would you prefer, “ you got down on your knees dramatically, “The great and powerful Damian Wayne, king to us all, master of gorgeous muscles, son of Bruce Wayne, genius among geniuses, should probably be a model but is stuck attending high school, our glorious leader.” You bowed, swinging your arms dramatically. You stood. “Or I could just call you Dami.”

Damian’s looked flustered, and you realized that the cashier’s eyes had gone wide. “Dami’s good.”

You grinned, “That’s what I thought.”

“All done, Mr. Wayne. It’ll be $69.87.” The cashier said.

Damian sighed and took out his wallet. He slapped down a $100 dollar bill. “Keep the change, buy yourself something nice.” Damian said. His hand found yours and he dragged you out of the store.

It felt normal at first, to have his hand in yours, but once you were in the parking lot your nerves caught up to the moment. Bolts of electricity shot through your hand, alerting you to the fact that Damian Wayne, of all people, was holding your hand. You reached your car, only hyperventilating on the inside at the moment. He dropped you hand and opened the door for you, even though it was the driver’s side he was opening.

“Thanks,” you said, flustered by the chivalry.

You got in the car and started the engine and Damian hopped in the passengers side.

10 minutes later and you were back in the parking lot of Gotham Academy. You stopped the engine and moved to open the door, but Damian caught your hand.

“We... we have yet to talk about our relationship... status.” Damian reminded you.

“Right.” You said. You knew there was probably no better place to talk about this, no one could overhear you, but you weren’t sure how to phrase what needed to be said.

“What are we?” Damian asked. You looked at him, taking in his suddenly soft features.

“What do you want us to be?” You found yourself asking. “We’re not just friends anymore, are we?”

He shook his head slightly. You took a breath. “Let’s take it slow. We don’t need the entire school and every newspaper with an inkling of who you are freaking out about this. Whatever this is.”

“So we keep it on the down low. Just between us.” He clarified. You nodded.

“What am I allowed to... do?” Damian asked after a moment.

“I don’t understand.”

“Am I allowed to hold your hand? Do you not want that yet?”

You thought for a moment, “You can hold my hand, just not when people are looking. I... I like holding your hand.” You adjusted your grip on his hand to make it more natural. “But ‘friends’ or ‘science partners’ don’t hold hands, typically. We don’t need people to know that we’re... whatever it is that we are.”

Damian had a soft smile plastered on his face. He kissed your knuckles. “Whatever we are, not soulmates.”

You laughed at his play on his previous promise. “Come on, Dami, we’re gonna be later than we already are if we stay out here any longer.”

 

* * *

 

That week, and the two weeks following, were spent holding hands under the table during science, him visiting your locker every morning, and the two of you meeting up in the library before lunch was over for some “alone” time. This meant sitting next to him, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he quietly read you a book. You were certain that the school librarian knew what your and Damian’s relationship status was, but you also saw her eating cupcakes from a box with a tag that read, “From the Waynes.” You figured she wasn’t going to be saying anything. In fact, on occasion she would close the library so it was just you and Damian in there together. You had no complaints.

Today you were doing just that. Snuggling with Damian Wayne in the school library was certainly not you’d expected to be doing in your high school years. In fact, had anyone told you five months ago that one day you’d be doing this, you would have laughed and told them to fuck off. But, it was happening, and you didn’t want anything else. Damian was the perfect cuddle buddy, and you didn’t take those lightly. His arm wrapped comfortably around your neck and shoulders, like it was meant to be there, and in a way, it was. He always smelled nice, like a mix of leather, acrylic paints, and old books. It didn’t matter what he’d decided to read you, you weren’t paying attention to the story half the time, just his voice as it rose and fell, washing over the beautiful words in a way that made them mean something. He’d started bringing the bomber jacket the two of you had bought to school, just so he could wrap it around your shoulders during the ten minutes the two of you spent in the library together. You didn’t know how to admit it aloud, but you were falling for Damian Wayne.

“Hey, (y/n)?” Damian asked, his voice as silky as always.

“Yeah, Dami?”

“I know winter break starts tomorrow, and I am asking you this last minute, but I was wondering if you’d like to come over. You can meet all of my brothers this time, and perhaps my father will be there too.”

You shifted your head to look at him. “I’d love to. I’ll have to ask my parents, but I don’t think we’re doing much for break this year.”

He pressed his lips gently to your forehead. You sighed and leaned into his touch. Damian had never kissed you in any way before, other than the occasional kiss on your hand when he was being curt— or flirtatious. You could never tell with him. You could feel the skin his lips had touched pulsing with excitement as butterflies flew through your nerves.

“Am I allowed to do that?” He asked after a moment.

“Please,” you whispered.

He hummed and held you a bit closer, pressing his lips to you hair.

The bell rang and you begrudgingly peeled yourself away from Damian’s warm embrace.

“I’ll text you this afternoon,” you said, which was something you said often, whether as a reminder to him that you liked talking to him or as a reminder to yourself that you liked talking to him. You weren’t sure which, but Damian always nodded and responded with, “I’ll look forward to it.”

The rest of your school day was always spectacularly lonely; Damian was always nowhere to be found until you meet up with him after school to work on the project. You and Damian were on the eighth section, despite everyone else being on the seventh. It was a nice head start to have, because you and Damian could spend more time talking rather than working.

 

* * *

 

That afternoon, you went to the Gotham Public Library. This time, Damian wasn’t there, and he wouldn’t be because you didn’t invite him. He didn’t even know you were there.

You sat down at the seat you used to sit at when Damian and you had worked in the library. You closed your eyes and imagined where you and Damian would be if you’d never invited him to your house that one fateful day.

You saw Damian sitting in his seat, as stoic as ever, saying a few lines on what you needed to be working on. The phrase, “Friends not soulmates” still replaying in each other’s minds. Meeting up in the library was a courtesy that both of you participated in to obtain a higher grade on your projects. It was professional, strict, not at all romantic. For a moment, you wondered if that was better, but then you remembered the feeling of his lips on your hair, his arm wrapped around you, a giddy feeling in you stomach at the prospect of seeing him over winter break. You stood.

“I don’t know what happened,” you whispered to the empty space in the chair. “But I’m glad it did. Maybe we were wrong, maybe soulmates is where we’re supposed to be. I think it is.”

You turned and left the library, saying goodbye to the past.

It was dark out, and for a moment you questioned how long you’d really been there. It couldn’t have been for more than 20 minutes. You took a breath. You’d walked the seven blocks to get here from your house, in the daylight. But now, as you looked at the shadow covered streets and danger lurking around every corner, you had to fight down a feeling of terror at walking home in the streets of Gotham at night.

You took a step. Another. Another. Your paces became faster and faster as you hurried home. Your eyes darted every which way, looking for any threat at all. You pulled out your phone and texted Damian.

**I’m out right now, remind me to ask my parents about coming over soon.**

You hit send. His reply came.

**Where are you?**

**Had to stop by the library. Going home now.**

**You have a ride, right? Or did you drive yourself?**

You gulped. Looked around. Kept walking, faster than before.

**No, I’m walking.**

**Shit. This is Gotham. What are you thinking?**

**I know, Dami.**

**Okay, just... walk fast, keep your head down.**  
**Text me when you get home.**

**OK. I’ll be alright.**

No response. You sighed and put your phone in your back pocket. You turned a corner and a gloved hand grabbed your mouth. You screamed. You bit the hand and lashed out with your limbs. Strong hands grabbed your arms and legs, hauling you into a back alley. You screamed more.

Your ripped an arm free and reached for your phone. You ran. You hit the first number on your phone, hoping whoever it is would answer. Your breath was labored, every nerve in your body alight with terror. You were sprinting. You held the phone to your ear, begging whoever you called to answer.

“(Y/N)?”

You were instantly relieved to hear his voice, “Damian!”

“Are you—“ A hand wrapped around your arm, tripping you and sending you sprawling. A scream erupted from your lips as your phone slid across the pavement.

“Get the fuck away from me!” You screamed, kicking at your attackers. There were three of them, faces masked and hands gloved. You didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t think, everything was a blur.

A punch landed on your face, a heavy fist slamming into your cheek. You slumped from the impact, your vision starting to go dark.

You heard a engine roar. You saw an evil grin on their faces. You felt your pants being pulled down, leaving you exposed to the cold night air. You heard the unzipping of a zipper. You heard a command, telling the men on either side of you that they’d get a turn soon. The engine grew closer. Tires skidded. The man leaning over you fell to the ground. Tears fell from your eyes. A man in red, yellow, and green appeared. Next to him, a lean man in black and blue. They wore masks. The men next to you abandoned their task in favor of beating up the others. You saw the first man, his erection still visible, laying down, blood spilling from his skull. A pointed R jutted from the wound. A hand grabbed you, hauling you up. It was one of the men in black. He yelled something at the costumed vigilantes. You could still feel your exposed skin. The taller of the pair, dressed in bright colors like those Damian used when he painted, charged. He pushed you out of the way, and you registered the rhythmic thuds of punches being thrown. Your vision started to fade again. The lean man with a blue bird-symbol painted on his chest shook you awake. You tried to open your eyes. You felt the fabrics of your pants being pulled back up around your hips gently. The thuds of punches continued. The man in bright colors was straddling one of the men in black, swinging punch after punch. The lean man spoke.

“Robin! Stop! You’re gonna kill him!”

“He deserves it!” Robin screamed back, his voice deep and angry.

The lean man pulled Robin off the other man. Robin stumbled over to you, his movements sluggish but... anxious.

“Are you okay?” His voice was deep and soft, reminding you of Damian. Tears fell from your eyes. You shook your head, curled yourself into a tight ball. Terrified.

The lean man was more put together than you or Robin. “We need to get you home.” He whispered, gentle but commanding.

You shook your head. “My parents... they don’t know I went out. I just needed...” Your voice broke. “I can’t go home. Not right now.”

The vigilantes said nothing.

You cursed loudly through your tears, “My phone. Fuck, my phone. Dammit, shit, Damian, I need to let him know I’m okay. Shit, motherfucking shit.” You stood, much to the surprise of the tall vigilantes. Had you not been in a state of panic, you might have noticed the way Robin tensed and touched his mask. But you didn’t.

You stumbled around, cursing up a storm as you looked for your phone. However, you couldn’t find it in the darkness.

You crumbled, losing all the willpower you had to stand. Tears continued to fall, your breath shook violently, the muscles in your body exhausted. You wanted to hear Damian’s voice, but instead you got a pair of strong arms wrapping around your shoulders, a colorful mural hidden in the tightly woven threads of fabric.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now.” Robin’s voice was deep, but it was comforting in a way not unlike Damian’s. You leaned into his grip.

“I need... Damian needs to know I’m alright.”

A pause. “He knows.”

In any other situation, you might have questioned that statement. But this wasn’t just any other situation. You were terrified, shaking, cold despite the warm arms wrapped around your torso. Robin’s words made sense. You relaxed, your vision blurring before going dark.

 

* * *

 

When you came to, you were in your bed. For a moment, you didn’t question how you’d gotten there. Everything seemed normal. Feeble sunlight made its way through the windows, Damian’s artwork hung on the wall, talking sounded from downstairs, the covers were wrapped around you, warm and inviting. Your phone was plugged up, charging.

Wait.

Your phone.

Everything came rushing back to you as you jolted upright in bed. You grabbed your phone. Ten or more texts from Damian were on the screen and three from your mom.

**Damian:**

**I know, I trust you. I just don’t trust Gotham.**

**(Y/N)?**

**Are you okay?**

**What happened?**

**I’m calling 911**

**Please answer me.**

**Where are you?**

**Goddammit, (y/n).**

**Answer me.**

**Shit, the police can’t help you if they don’t know where you are.**

Tears fell from your eyes as you read over his texts.

**Mom:**

**I’m making pork chops for dinner.**

**Damian called. Why aren’t you in your room?**

**Baby? Where did you go?**

You pushed the blankets off you and stumbled out of bed, your legs shaky. You made your way downstairs.

The second your mom saw you, tears fell from her eyes and she enveloped you in a hug. Your dad and sister joined in too. You relished the warmth of the embraces, but your mind couldn’t focus.

“How did I get home?” You asked.

Everyone went silent. “Nightwing and Robin brought you. I don’t know how they knew... but they did.” Your dad was the first one to speak.

You looked at your feet. “How did I get my phone?”

Your sister shrugged, “They brought it with you.”

Your mom enveloped you in another hug, “Oh, baby. Don’t ever go out at night again, okay? I love you too much for anything to happen to you.”

Your sister made an offended noise. You slapped her shoulder and laughed. This elicited a feeling of relief in your family, and you could see your mom’s shoulders visibly relax.

But one question still burned in your mind, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask it aloud.

You pulled out your phone. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. You decided against a text message. You wanted to hear Damian’s voice. You excused yourself and went into your dad’s office, closing the door behind you. The line rang.

“(Y/N)?” Damian’s voice was almost inaudible, but you could hear the quiver in it.

“Dami?”

You heard him sigh. “You’re okay! I called you and your parents. You didn’t pick up and your mom said she hadn’t seen you. I tried to come by your house to check on you once your dad told me Nightwing and Robin had brought you home, but...”

“It’s okay, Damian. I’m okay.”

“How do you feel? Do you want me to come by? I can bring you cupcakes or we can watch a movie?” Damian bombarded you with questions.

“No, thank you, Damian. I’m just a little tired and shaken up. Maybe you can come over tomorrow.” You leaned against the wall.

“Okay then. I’ll text you tomorrow and see how you’re feeling.”

“Dami...” You whispered.

“Yes?”

“I um... I’m sorry if I scared you last night. I didn’t mean to call you, I just tried to call someone. I saw your texts this morning when I woke up...” You trailed off, unable to continue. Damian’s breathing could be heard over the phone and you tried to match yours to his.

“No, no, don’t think like that. I’m glad you called me. Always call me if you’re in trouble, okay?”

You didn’t understand why you would do that, but you didn’t care. The way Damian said it made it believable. You found that you didn’t want to stop talking to him.

“Would it still be okay if I came over to your place sometime?” You questioned, timidly.

“If you feel up to it, you’re welcome over anytime.” Damian replied. You loved how he left it up to you.

You didn’t talk for a while. Damian’s gentle voice came over the speaker in your phone. “Do you want me to hang up?”

“No,” You whispered to him, “I like the way your voice sounds.”

 

* * *

 

Damian didn’t end up being able to come until Tuesday— four days after the incident and three after you spoke to him on the phone. He’d tried to come on Monday, but your mom had been very strict about who came to see you. You still talked to him though, through texts or calls. He read books to you mostly, but occasionally he’d just talk quietly, filling the air with his voice.

At night, the events of that Friday night came rushing back. It was when nobody was around to worry about you that you broke down. The memory of the strange man, pressing into you wracked your brain. The way Robin’s fist slammed into one of your attacker’s heads, how he yelled so deeply and passionately that the man deserved it. The way it looked as Nightwing used all of his strength to drag Robin off the man. The chill it sent down your spine. The pointed R jutting from the man’s skull, blood pouring out. He was dead. Robin had killed him. For you. And he was so close to killing another man, this time with his bare fists. Your body shook as you remembered the panic you’d felt. Your breath labored. How Nightwing and Robin had seen your exposed body, how Nightwing ever so gently put your clothes back on, covering you, protecting you. How Robin’s arms had wrapped around your torso, comforting you, telling you that you were safe.

You woke up in a cold sweat, hands clammy and eyes wide. You reached for your phone, doing the first thing that came to mind.

The line rang once again. You hoped Damian wouldn’t be asleep.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing awake?”

“Nightmares,” you summarized. “I just wanted to hear your voice.” You closed your eyes, listening to Damian’s soft words, lulling you back to sleep. He promised that he’d be coming over tomorrow and you’d have the whole day with him. He talked about random things, just talking until you fell asleep, only hanging up once he heard the rhythmic breathing of your sleep.

 

* * *

 

When Damian came over the next day, you were sitting in your bed, trying to get your hands to stop shaking. Tears stained your face and they occasionally fell down into your open hands.

“(Y/N)! Damian’s here!” Your mom called from downstairs.

“Okay!” You yelled back, unable to get your feet to take you downstairs to meet Damian. Polite conversation floated up the steps, ringing in your ears. Your mom and Damian exchanged kind words, mostly revolving around the weather or how glad your mom was that you had a friend like Damian.

“She should be down here by now.” Your mom commented. Your feet were still stuck to the floor, your hands still shaking.

“I’ll just go on up,” Damian decided. “Have a nice day, Mrs. (Y/l/n), call us if you need us.”

You heard his feet coming up the stairs, quickly and quietly, alerting you to his impending presence.

He pushed the slightly ajar door all the way open and stepped in. The second his gaze fell on you with your withered, tired form and tear-stained face, he dropped the bag he’d brought and enveloped you in a hug so tight, you felt as if he were a tight jacket, the only thing keeping you safe from the cold winds outside. He had a hand on the back of your head, holding you to his chest. The other was wrapped around your torso. A sob sprang from your lungs and you heard the door shut quietly.

“Hey... shhh... (y/n), it’s okay... shhh, I’m here now.” His voice was comforting, but your hands still shook. “Let it out, it’s okay... it’s just you and me now... I’ve got you...”

You cried, tears streaming down your face even more so than they had the night you’d been attacked. Damian held you, whispering into your ear everything you needed to hear. You clung to him like a burr on clothing, not letting go of his warm embrace, the feel of his skin underneath his shirt. He had the bomber jacket on, you could feel its coarse material in your fingers. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, pulling you even closer. The tears began to dry, but you didn’t dare move, not wanting to ever leave his grip.

The two of you didn’t move for the next half hour, Damian just clutching you tightly to his body.

When you pulled away from him, your hair was plastered to your face by dried tears. The makeup you’d attempted that morning was washed away. Your eyes were red and puffy and your lip quivered slightly. But you didn’t care. Damian’s big green eyes looked into your eyes, searching through them.

“God, if I knew you were like this I would’ve come sooner.” He whispered, pushing a strand of hair out of your face. He was still touching you. One hand held both of yours in it, the other touched your cheek gently, a caress of an angel.

You shook your head, “At least you came.” You tried for a smile, but failed.

He wiped away a tear with his thumb, reminding you of the time in the school library. You leaned into his touch this time, not daring to push him away.

“Will you... lay down with me?” You asked, timidly, not knowing how to phrase it. Damian looked unsure.

“Do you want me to?”

You nodded.

“Okay,” his voice was hushed. He helped you up and held back the covers for you. You crawled in and he joined you. You immediately wrapped your arms around his torso as he pulled the blankets back over your bodies. He let you settle into the familiar position with his arms around your shoulders, leaning against his chest. The other hand crossed over his body, holding your arm gently. You closed your eyes.

“Damian,” You began.

You felt him shift slightly.

“Can I tell you about what happened?” Your voice broke.

Damian paused, his breathing had stopped. “If you feel up to it.”

You took a breath. Even your parents didn’t know the whole story, but you wanted him to know. Damian deserved to know.

“I went to the Gotham library. I don’t know why... I guess I was saying goodbye to the old relationship we had. When we were just friends. I didn’t spend more than twenty minutes in there...” You began, explaining what happened. As you went on, Damian’s grip around you got tighter, but he stayed calm, his breathing even. “The man... he... he was... going into me.” Your voice broke and you sniffled, trying to get the words out. Damian needed to know. “I... I tried to get him off me, to get him away. But, those... those sons of bitches held me down while he violated me.”

Damian’s lips pressed against your head. “Keep going if you want. Take a break if you need. I’m right here.”

You took another shaky breath. “A R went into his skull, Damian. Robin killed him. I watched as Robin beat the absolute shit out of those men. Nightwing... he ...” You stopped. “One of them used me for a shield, to keep them from saving me. I was still...” You couldn’t finished your sentence, but Damian seemed to understand. “Robin tackled the guy, pushing me out of the way. Nightwing helped me, made sure I was okay. And Robin was still punching the other man. I wanted him to stop but, there was a look in his eyes as Nightwing told him to stop... a type of fury... I don’t understand... he looked mad, not because they were criminals but because they were hurting me. And Nightwing had to pull him off the man, and the second those punches stopped being thrown I realized that I didn’t want Robin to stop. I just wanted to be safe, and if that meant the guy being killed.... then so be it.”

Damian didn’t react, he just held you and rocked you slightly as more tears streamed from your eyes.

“I don’t remember much of what happened next, just how broken I felt. Robin, when he hugged me, I felt safe. Like I do when you hold me.”

That’s when Damian moved. He locked his eyes with yours. “You feel safe when I’m with you?”

“Always,” you confirmed. Damian looked so... old, like he’d seen the worst of battles, but at the same time young and naive.

Damian’s lips pressed against your forehead again. You closed your eyes and let him run his fingers long the strands of your hair. He kissed your forehead again before leaning his against yours.

“I didn’t know I meant that much to you.” He whispered.

“Me neither, until...” You responded, reaching up to touch his face.

“I want to kiss you.” You told him.

He moved away, “No, you don’t.”

You looked at him in shock, “How do you know what I do or don’t want?”

“(Y/n), we just started a... whatever it is we have. If you kiss me, then we’re in a relationship.” His voice goes quiet, “I don’t want you to make a decision you’ll regret.”

“I won’t regret it.” You told him.

“Maybe.” He sighed and sat up, untangling your limbs from his. “If you still feel that way when you come over to my house, then I’ll believe you. But right now, you’re emotions are wild and you might do something you’ll regret.”

You were regretting telling him that you wanted to kiss him; you should’ve just done it and suffered the consequences later. But, there was such a softness in his gaze, and you knew he was doing this because he really believed what he was telling you.

“Okay,” you sighed. “Could you read to me? Or paint something?”

A smile crossed his tragically beautiful features. “Why don’t you put on some music and I’ll paint you something?”

You grinned. He didn’t let you play music often since he found it such a “distraction.” But when he did, you didn’t hesitate to turn on your speaker.

Damian took his time, painting slowly as you talked to him about mundane things and you sang softly to the music as it filled the room. It was the most comfortable you’d felt since the end of lunch period on Friday with Damian in the library, leaning against him making plans for the break.

When he finished, you noted the childish look in his eye, drawing you in to look at his work.

It was a painting of you and him, foreheads touching. There was so much detail on your skin, the tear streaks down your face, and his hands wrapped in your hair. It was painted in shades of tan, grey, red, and black.You looked up at Damian.

“God, I love it.” You told him, wishing you could keep the painting for yourself. “But, I want you to have this one. I have so many of your paintings, it’s time you kept my favorite.”

Damian looked ready to complain, but you put a finger over his lips. “No complaints, Dami. This one belongs in your room.”

He nodded after a moment. You kissed his cheek and watched as he melted, his hand moving to touch the place where you kissed him.

 

* * *

 

You ended up going to Damian’s house a day before New Years.

You stood, looking at the painting hung on his wall. It was the same one he’d painted at you house, and just seeing it again made you want to cry. You were more or less better from that fateful Friday night, only having nightmares once or twice a week. Damian said you were doing well compared to some people. Damian also said that all of his brothers would be back in half an hour. You were honest to god terrified. From what you understood, Jason was the only one to worry about. When he teamed up with Dick it could be disastrous. All you knew about Tim was that Damian found him annoying, small, and thought he drank way too much coffee.

Damian entered the room with two bowls of ice cream, you grinned.

Sitting down on his bed, you took one and began eating, savoring the flavor and texture.

The two of you chatted in between bites, mostly about not wanting to go back to school in a few days. When you finished, you set the bowl on Damian’s desk and returned to the bed. He did the same not long after. The both of you were silent. You wanted to say something to fill the silence, but found the only things to talk about were unimportant, merely mindless chatter.

“Damian.” You said, moving closer. You face was inches from his when he finally spoke.

“Are you sure?” He asked after a moment, understanding what you wanted.

You sighed and took his hand. “No, but I know that just having you near me makes my heart race but the second your skin touches mine everything slows down. I love that feeling, when everything slows down but yet it moves so fast. And I can’t take these almost kisses anymore. The way you kiss my forehead or my hair, it makes me wild and calm at the same time. Screw friends, Dami. I _want_ to be your soulmate.”

Damian gazed into your eyes, trying to gauge something you couldn’t place. “I want that too, (y/n).” Your name was a whisper, his voice so low and familiar that you couldn’t hold back anymore.

Your lips connected with his, sending every nerve in your body wild. His lips were a smooth velvet against yours, he was gentle, his lips pressed against yours carefully, as if afraid he might kiss you wrong. Your hands rose to touch his face, feeling for his razor sharp cheekbones and the tangible glow of his skin. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as you kissed. You clung to him, never wanting this moment to stop as his insistent mouth caressed your shaking lips. Tumultuous tremors flew across your nerves, making you crazy as you pushed for more. A hand came behind your neck, supporting you as he gently pushed you back onto the bed. Your eyes were closed, letting you enjoy the feel of the kiss, but you wanted more, you wanted to see his face close to yours, to taste his excited skin as he looked at you, lust in his eye. The way Damian kissed you now, the first kiss you’d shared with him, the way his hand cradled your neck while the other pushed your hips into the plush void of his bed; it was untamed, uncontrolled, and it made you ecstatic, wanting more, wanting him. You needed to breathe but you needed him at the same time. He was on top of you, straddling your waist as he bent over to kiss you. His lips began moving down your neck, making room for you to breath as he brushed his soft, angelic lips over your skin.

“God, that was amazing.” He murmured into your neck, making you squirm slightly.

He rose, his face above yours but not close enough to kiss. His hair was a tangled mess from your hands and his lips were pink from your incessant lips. He had a giddy smile on his face that you’d never seen before.

“Damian... I want to kiss you like that all of the time.”

His head lowered, getting closer to yours. “I want that, as well.”

You leaned up to kiss him, feeling your lips press against his. He kissed back, slowly and steady. The two of you pulled away after a moment.

“I believe I can get used to this.” Damian said.

You chucked, “I know I can.”

Damian hummed and kissed you again. You sighed into it, letting his lips engulf you in a feeling of satisfaction and happiness.

As the two of you exchanged more chaste kisses, time pressed on, leading up to the moment you would meet his family. But that was the farthest thing from your mind as Damian kissed you, his tongue gracing over your lips. Neither of you heard the Manor’s front door open as Damian’s family spilled in. You were to busy being pressed into the bed by Damian’s strong bulk, his lips sucking insistently on yours as light moans escaped your lips and Damian withheld groans in the back of his throat. You certainly didn’t hear Dick trotting up the stairs to get his younger brother and you from Damian’s room. Damian’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as you kissed his neck, letting him experience the bliss of the kisses trailing down his neck.

A knock sounded at the door.

Damian leapt off of you, crossing the room before you could even open your eyes. He was immediately straightening his outfit and wiping lipstick off his face and neck. He answered the door.

“Dick? You guys are back early!”

You fixed your appearance, flattening the rumples in your shirt from Damian’s fists knotting into them and pulled out your phone to check your makeup.

“Yeah. What were you guys doing?” Dick asking, looking around his brother to see into the room.

“Dick, we weren’t having sex. Get over it, we’re just friends.” Damian deadpanned, the line incredibly familiar from your last visit.

Dick raised his hands in mock surrender, “I can hope, can’t I?”

Damian was about to shut the door when Dick noticed something. “Hold up, is that lipstick?”

Damian’s face went red. “It might be, okay? (Y/n)’s been having a hard time after you know what. I was giving her a lot of hugs while we waited for you guys to get back.”

Dick instantly shut up, nodded, and left. Damian closed the door and turned to you. “Sorry to use... well, to use you as an excuse.”

You nodded, “It’s fine. Probably a better cover than I could’ve come up with.”

Damian smiled. “Why don’t you fix your makeup in the bathroom? I’m going to change into something better for dinner.”

That’s what you did. Finding a small makeup kit in one of the drawers, you used it to turn your smudged mascara into a beautiful smokey eye and covered the red marks on your neck with it as well. You used the reddest lipstick possible to mask any possible questions. _Why do you have red on your neck? Oh, my lipstick must have smudged._

You returned to Damian’s room to see him fully changed, his hair combed and all of your makeup had been wiped off his face.

“I hope its okay that I used your makeup wipes from your purse.” Damian told you.

“It’s fine. I used your hairbrush, so we’re even.” You joked.

Damian chuckled, turning to you. “God, you look like an angel. Father is going to love you.”

You couldn’t help but smile wildly at his compliment. Any compliment from him made your heart flutter, but saying that Bruce Wayne was going to love meeting you? That brought you to a whole new level of nervous.

Damian took your hand and kissed your knuckles. “Come along now, love.”

You blushed at his pet name, and followed him out of his room, down the steps, and into the dining room where his family lay in wait.

 

* * *

 

“Hi, I’m Tim.” Was the first thing spoken in the vast dining room.

You smiled, easily finding Tim amongst his brothers as Tim was the smallest and could not be confused with Jason. “Hey, I’m (y/n), Damian’s science partner.” You opted for the formal introduction, hoping they wouldn’t immediately jump to girlfriend like Dick probably had.

The man you assumed was Jason stood from his chair. You understood why Jason was the only family member Damian could hope to borrow clothes from. Jason was built like a house, with strong muscles pushing through a familiar white t-shirt.

You snorted. Everyone looked at you, confusion on their faces.

“Sorry,” you apologized. You turned to Damian. “Please tell me Jason is wearing the shirt I think he’s wearing.”

Damian glanced at his brother before his face turned red. “Shut up. They don’t know about that.”

A shit eating grin passed over your face. “Oh really? They don’t know about that time Dick stole all of your clothes and you were forced to wear Jason’s clothes to school and everyone stared at you because you have more muscles than the Rock, and we skipped first period to buy you a change of clothes? They don’t know about that?”

Laughter erupted in the room as you looked Damian in the eye; his face turning a bright shade of red.

“Why did I invite you to my house?” Damian asked, sounding defeated as he looked at the floor.

“I’d like to think it’s because of my overbearing charm.” You replied with a smirk. Turning back to his family members, you realized that another presence had entered the room and it was none other than Bruce Wayne, looking confused and amused at the same time.

You didn’t know how to approach him just yet, so you decided to formally introduce yourself to Jason and make your way over to Bruce.

You held out a hand to Jason, “I take it you’re Jason, Damian’s told me all about you.”

A smile played on Jason’s lips as he kissed your hand instead of shaking it. “Has he? Was it good or bad?”

“Oh, he mostly complained about your clothes being too tight. I also have a painting of his where you’re holding Tim upside down by the ankles.” You summarized, deciding to refrain from saying too much, letting the man’s imagination run wild. You heard Damian facepalm behind you.

“What?” Jason asked, caught off guard. But you were already moving towards Mr. Wayne. You curtsied slightly to Alfred on your way.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Wayne.” You said, extending a hand.

“A pleasure to meet you too, Miss (Y/l/n). Has my son said anything about me?” He replied, shaking your hand gently.

You hummed in thought, “Only the best of things, sir.”

A light laugh escaped his lips and you inwardly congratulated yourself for making a impression.

You leaned in closer to the elder Wayne, so that Damian could not hear you. “Might I ask what he’s said of me?”

Mr. Wayne smiled, “There’s too much to recite, my son thinks of you in the highest regards.”

You leaned away, speaking loud enough for the room to hear. “Mr. Wayne, I believe we have the potential to become great friends.”

Bruce Wayne laughed, “With an attitude such as yours, I think so too.”

With a grin wider than before, you returned to Damian’s side. You could feel his eyes burning holes through your skull, demanding to know what you and his father had talked about.

Dinner began as the six of you talked. The topic was mostly on you, where you lived, what you parents did, things that should make you feel embarrassed as you sat in their million dollar dining room, but you weren’t. Because, under the table, Damian had his foot pressing against yours. It wasn’t much, but it made all the difference. By the time dessert rolled around, you were full on both information and food. One of the things you learned was that Damian was a vegetarian. Another being that Alfred made the best food in the world.

 

* * *

 

Two months after your dinner with the Waynes, and many heated kisses between you and Damian, you found yourself in the presence of Robin once again.

You were sitting in your room, admiring the paintings on the walls when a knock came at your window. Not only did it scare the shit out of you, but also out of your sister’s cat, who ran out of the room before you could even look at the window.

You looked out of the glass to see a figure clad in colorful leather, crouching by your window patiently.

You looked from the window to the door, back to the window, to the door, to the window, to the door. You closed your bedroom door and locked it despite knowing that your parents were out at a concert and your sister was staying at a friend’s house.

You moved slowly to open your window, wary despite the fact that you were pretty sure Robin was one of the good ones. You slid it open and he climbed inside with ease.

“May I ask what you’re doing here?” You hissed at him, sliding the window shut once again.

He moved towards the door, and his hand flicked the light switch, turning your room dark.

“Dude!” You whisper-screeched.

“Shh.” He hushed. “I’m not supposed to be here.”

“No shit.” You deadpanned. If it weren’t so dark, you might’ve seen a smirk on Robin’s face.

“I just wanted to check on you, make sure you’re alright.”

You could tell he was lying, but you played along. “A bit late for that.”

“I’m aware.”

“Do you always make house calls to the victims you save? Or just the pretty ones?” You asked him.

“None of the above. Just you.” His voice was so deep, eliciting a response inside you not unlike how you felt when Damian kissed you.

He took a step closer. You rocked back on your heels, unsure whether to step back or step forward. Robin moved closer. You still didn’t move.

“You found my phone,” You told him, wanting to fill the silence.

“Nightwing did.”

“Oh, so I guess that means you carried my unconscious body to my house.”

“Yes.”

He was even closer now, only a foot of air separating your two bodies.

“Thanks for that.” You replied. You still hadn’t moved. Robin was so close to you now, that all he had to do was lean forward...

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, surprising the vigilante. “I have a boyfriend. His name’s Damian. I rather like him, so if you don’t mind leaving now.” You pushed at his chest, directing him towards the window.

Robin didn’t move, he only laughed. And despite the unusual depth of it, you recognized it. You’d recognize that laugh anywhere.

After a long moment of silence, you slapped him hard across the face. “What the fuck, Damian?!”

He paused. “That’s not my name.”

“Bullshit! I know my own boyfriend’s laugh, and that was it, just a shit ton deeper.”

Robin paused and for a second you wondered if you’d accused him of being someone he’s not. He said nothing.

You knew two ways to confirm his identity. One was to rip that mask off his face and take a chance. While that one sounded like a great plan, you figured the mask wasn’t just going to come off. The second one it was.

You grabbed his face in yours and pressed your lips to his, feeling the velvety softness you loved so much when you kissed Damian. Robin paused, and you felt him try to pull away, but you didn’t let him. You grabbed his suit in your hand and pushed him down onto your bed. His lips were moving against yours hesitantly. You straddled his hips and kissed him more, letting your hands slide to his face.

You ripped off his mask and broke the kiss. Looking down at his familiar face, you smirked. “So, are you still going to try and convince me that your name isn’t Damian Wayne?”

Damian lay on the bed underneath you, looking fully flustered. He shook his head feebly.

“Why did you come here, Damian?” You asked him.

“I was out on patrol...” he began, already saying too much. “I passed by your place, and it’s a slow night, so I figured I’d pop in as Robin and say hello.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And you didn’t think I’d figure out your identity?”

“You’d be surprised.” Damian stated. “The majority of Gotham can’t figure out who we are even though our name is the most well known name in the city.”

“Majority?” You questioned.

“A few select people aren’t idiots.” Damian said, his hand moved your hair behind your ear. “You slapped me really hard.”

“You fucking deserve it.” You scolded.

Damian hummed, “I was hoping you’d find out, I don’t like keeping secrets from you.”

“I’m glad you came by, though I kinda wish you’d just told me straight up, ‘hey, I’m Robin.’” You informed him. You were still straddling his hips.

Damian grinned, “But that takes the fun out of me breaking into your room late at night to reveal my vigilante alter ego to you.”

You leaned down closer to him, “Fuck you, Damian Wayne.” You said as you kissed him passionately. He moaned and rolled you over, pinning your arms to the bed and taking full advantage of your lips.

You moaned loudly as his tongue slipped inside your mouth, exploring gently.

“Shh, your parents are going hear us.” Damian broke the kiss to whisper a warning.

“They’re not going to hear shit. They’re out at a concert.” You groaned, missing his lips already.

A look crossed Damian’s face and you made a decision. “Kiss me.”

He did just that, and you let him explore your mouth slowly, enticing more with every touch of his lips, each caress of his tongue. He still had you pinned to the bed, his grip on your arms firm but not painful.

“Take off your shirt,” you whispered to him, voice full of lust.

Damian paused. “Are you sure?”

“As sure as I am that you’re Robin.” You told him.

Damian released you and stood at the edge of your bed. He pulled the top of his Robin-suit off, leaving you to admire his strong chest muscles without the obstacle of a shirt in the way. You saw scars on his skin that you’d never imagined before, but you also say the way his dark skin glowed in the moonlight streaming from the window. You sat up and took off your own shirt, feeling embarrassed and exposed. His eyes landed on your breasts, still covered by your bra, but uncovered all the same. You saw him lick his lips, and couldn’t resist pulling off the straps of your bra, leaving only the clasps in the back to keep it on your figure.

“If you ever feel uncomfortable, or want to stop, just tell me.” Damian said, as he began unbuckling his pants. The anticipation grew slowly, as you wanted him more and more each second that passed. His pants fell down to around his ankles, leaving just the boxers he wore. You reached for the clasps on your bra, unhooking each one. The bra fell into your lap and you tossed it aside. Damian’s boxers fell around his ankles and he kicked both articles of clothing off to the side.

When his eyes fell on your bare top half, he sucked in a breath. He moved slowly to the bed, suddenly not caring about his nakedness.

“May I?” He asked. When you nodded, his hand floated to your breast, touching it gently. You shivered. His hand slid down your torso, joining the other at the hem of your pants. He pulled them down and you helped him; soon your pants and underwear had joined his on the floor.

“God, you’re beautiful.” He murmured, admiring your figure. A shy smile crossed your face.

“Do you have protection?” You asked. He shook his head.

“It’s okay, there’s some in the bathroom.” You whispered back, standing to go get it. He let himself admire your ass as you walked away.

When you came back, you opened the package and slipped it on him, your hands shaking. He grabbed them, “Are you still sure?”

“Damian, I want you. Do you?”

He found himself nodding, pushing you onto the bed. He wasn’t sure what to do, what you wanted him to do. He’d never done this before. But soon, his lips found yours and everything fell into place. His hips rocking yours as you touched him in places he’d never dreamed of being touched. How your tongue trailed along his skin.

You were in a state of ecstasy and pleasure as Damian touched your skin, your breasts, your womanhood. After the incident, you’d never thought you’d be able to let someone near you again, to show yourself to anyone. But here you were, naked and vulnerable underneath Damian’s equally exposed form. And this time it had been your choice.

When he aligned himself above you and checked once more, asking for your permission, you gave it to him without a seconds thought. You wanted him. You wanted to feel him inside you.

Damian began slowly, hardly pushing into you, giving you time to get used to the new sensation. You moaned as he went deeper, raising your hips occasionally to get more of that feeling you needed so badly. You throbbed around him as he pushed deeper, his moans of pleasure filling your ears. He pulled out, giving you a break as he ran his lips over your skin, sucking on the soft parts, his hands massaging your thighs.

You reached down and took his dick into your hands. He gasped, eyes wide at the feeling. You massaged his hardness slowly, enticing him.

“God, (y/n).” He moaned, his voice deep in the back of his throat, his eyes shut.

“Fuck me, Damian.” You told him, and he hesitated none this time, positioning himself above you and entering.

He went so deep in you that you gasped loudly, Damian smiled above you.

“Do you like that, baby?” He asked. You melted at the name, grabbing his ass tightly.

His hips slammed into yours in reaction, making you scream. “Oh fuck, Damian!”

He said your name as he pushed deeper into you still. Your hips bucked up to meet his. His lips sucked on your breasts.

You felt a heat rise up inside you. “Dami, I’m gonna.”

He groaned and pushed harder, “Me too.”

The both of you went harder, his hand on one of your breasts, the other on your ass, holding you closer to him. You had a hand in his hair, pulling at it in your excitement as the other gripped your sheets tightly. Your eyes were shut. Your hips rose up to meet his as he slammed into you. Moans and screams escaped your lips, calling each other’s names.

You released as he did, the heat reaching its climax.

You opened your eyes slowly, to see Damian’s beautiful face as he leaned down to kiss you. You kissed him back, a pleased smile on your face. He rolled off of you and put the used condom in the trash. You didn’t register him get up to go wash off in the bathroom, still reeling from the orgasm.

When he came back, he laid down beside you, wrapping his strong arms around you. You sighed and leaned into him.

“That was...” you began, but found yourself unable to finish the sentence.

“Amazing.” He finished for you. You hummed.

Minutes passed by where you just laid there in Damian’s arms, recovering from your high.

“I feel like this is where Dick walks in.” Damian blurted. You laughed.

“Can’t say we didn’t have sex anymore.”

Damian grumbled. “I suppose that’s okay, I really loved... you.”

You turned to look at him. “I loved it too.”

A few more minutes passed by in comfortable silence, neither of you needing to say anything.

“Dami, I... I just realized I’ve never told you this before, but I love you.”

You felt him tense up. His lips kissed the top of your head. “I know, I love you too.”

You sighed, “Dami?”

He hummed in response, his smooth vocal cords making the sound into an audible representation of a question mark.

“Soulmates, not friends.”

Damian smirked, “Soulmates.”

 

* * *

 

You flipped the last slide of the presentation as you and Damian finished presenting your year long project to the class. Applause rumbled through the room and you turned to Damian with a smile on your face.

“Very good, you two.” Mr. Berg complimented as you returned to your seat.

Today was a good day.

Not just because the stress of finishing the project was off your shoulders, no today was special in more ways than one.

For starters, you were going to Damian’s house tonight with your family. This would be the first time all year that all ten of you were going to be in the same room. You and Damian also planned to tell them that the two of you were soulmates, given that you still hadn’t told them. A few butterflies rattled around in your stomach, but you knew that your family loved Damian— probably more than you did— and Damian’s family had been pining to get the two of you together for ages. There was no reason for you to worry, according to Damian.

That wasn’t all. Only an hour before, while you’d been at your locker, Damian had kissed you. Openly. In front of everyone. Anyone paying attention saw Damian Wayne with his lips pressed passionately against yours. It wasn’t just a little chaste kiss either, nope, it was a full blown make-out as he pushed you against the lockers behind you. When he pulled away, he had a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Awe, look, you’re blushing.” He had teased, tapping your nose.

You weren’t about to let him do that either, so in front of everyone, you’d grabbed his ass. “Look who’s blushing now, Wayne.” You’d challenged, walking him back a pace or two.

He’d leaned in, walking you back into the lockers, and kissed your neck gently. “I love you,” he’d whispered into your ear.

“I know,” you’d responded, pushing him away gently. You’d grabbed your bag off the floor and walked away. You’d spread your arms wide and yelled at him from down the hall. “Who doesn’t love me, Dami?”

He’d smiled and leaned against the lockers, “I’ll see you at first period!”

And now, Damian still wasn’t done. As you sat down at your seat, he took your hand and kissed it. “Soulmates,” he whispered as the next group went up to present.

By the time lunch rolled around, rumors were flying.

“I heard Damian Wayne is dating his science partner now.”

“Ugh, I was totally planning on taking that boy’s virginity.”

“I bet she paid the Joker to manipulate him into dating her.”

The rumors got more wild and outlandish as the lunch period went on, but the real catch was when Damian himself walked in and sat down next to you.

Anyone who was paying attention at all noticed him slide into the seat next to you. He took your hand gently, massaging circles into the back of it.

“So, I was wondering if you’d make cookies for tonight. Jason doesn’t believe me that you make the best cookies ever.”

“You know I don’t like baking.” You’d responded, feeling the jealous gazes of the cheerleaders and prep girls who’d thought they could win over Damian Wayne’s heart by staring at him and gossiping over his glorious abs. “You just got lucky that the cookies were actually good.”

Damian sighed, “Please...” He whined, dragging out the end of the word.

You rolled your eyes, “Fine, but you owe me.”

He smiled and kissed your lips gently, his bottom lip catching on yours. “I believe I’ve already paid you back.” He whispered and stood, leaving the cafeteria. Dozens of pairs of eyes darted between you and Damian.

The grades on the project came in during seventh period and you and Damian had gotten a 100, making the great day even better.

You couldn’t stop thinking about how flirtatious Damian was being, as you sat in eighth period, counting down the seconds until you could see Damian again. The smile plastered on his face, something that used to be so rare and far in between, but was now hardly ever gone. The way his lips felt on yours and the way everyone’s eyes scanned you, unsure of how you’d attracted someone as gorgeous as Damian Wayne. You kept thinking about how much of an asshole you’d been to him when the two of you had just first met, and how different you were now, sweet talking him into oblivion as he touched your body in places you would only let him see. The way you felt when he was inside you, a special heat made only for him. How you stayed up late at night, watching the news whenever you heard Robin being mentioned; silently praying for him to be okay because you couldn’t even think of what would happen to you if you lost him. Lost his eyes. If you lost his touch. If you lost his smile. If you lost the way he made you feel. Lost the way he complimented you. If you lost his kindness and the way he always asks for your permission before daring to do something you might not like. Damian Wayne was the one person you could never lose, because if you did, your heart wouldn’t just break, it wouldn’t just shatter, it would explode into a million pieces because a world without Damian Wayne was no world worth living in.

 

* * *

 

You stood with your parents and sister at Damian’s front door, waiting patiently for the door to open. You father held the cookies in hand. You’d made extra given how many Damian had eaten last time. If all of his brothers were like that... god help you.

The door swung open to reveal Alfred. It didn’t take long for you to see Dick running up behind, Tim on his shoulders, screaming that you were here. They were both dressed in suits, which were probably more expensive than the chandelier. You heard Damian’s bedroom door open and his soft footsteps as he ran down the stairs to greet you. You stepped inside, unfazed by the size of the house and the insanity of Damian’s siblings. Your family however? Not so much. Your mom’s eyes were wide, looking at the high vaulted ceilings and trillion dollar chandelier. You dad had a similar expression, but towards the sheer size of everything else. Your sister was gazing wide eyed at Damian’s siblings.

You screamed as you were lifted off the ground by strong arms. You expected it to be Damian, but no, it was Jason, spinning you around in circles.

“Hey, little bird!” He screamed as he set you down.

You laughed at the nickname, not sure where he got it from. Not that you were complaining, Damian’s nickname was Demon Spawn.

“Oí, demon spawn!” Jason yelled at Damian.

Damian was dressed in a suit without the blazer. He had a tie around his neck and even though it was only half tied, you really just wanted to grab it and pull him into a kiss. But you didn’t, frozen in place by the smile on his face and how he sauntered up to Jason.

“Yes, brother?” The was a type of challenge in his eyes that you loved.

You noticed that your family were all staring at the exchange, no longer entranced by the room. They still hadn’t said anything.

“I think—“ Jason’s response was cut off by a clearing of a throat.

“Dick, put your brother down, we have guests. Jason, stop antagonizing Damian and (y/n). Tim, no need to yell, we can all hear you perfectly fine. And Damian, finished getting dressed.”

You could just hear the stars shooting from your mother’s eyes at the arrival of Bruce Wayne, glorious and regal, dressed in a suit and looking better than anyone else in the room, Damian included. Speaking of, Damian ran upstairs to finish getting dressed.

“(Y/n).” Bruce began, “How have you been?” He walked towards you, coming to a stop in front of you.

“Just fine, Mr. Wayne.” You replied.

Bruce Wayne leaned close to you like you had the first time you’d spoken, “Dare I say that Damian has been speaking of you more than usual lately.”

You leaned away with a smirk, “Has he? I’ll make sure to tease him about it over dinner.”

The smile on Bruce’s face was bright enough to light a fire. “Would you introduce me to your family?”

You nodded, and began introducing the people behind you, starting with your mother and ending with your sister.

“It’s nice to meet you all, I hope you will enjoy dinner. Alfred has spent all day making it. Are any of you vegetarians?” Bruce added.

Your family said nothing, to in awe by Bruce Wayne talking to them.

“No, they aren’t. My sister has an allergy to red food dye, but that’s easy to avoid. The only problematic one is Damian.” You spoke for them with a smile.

“Well, we can’t say he isn’t passionate about animals.” Bruce replied.

You gasped, “That reminds me, once Damian gets back, can we go see Titus?”

Bruce laughed, “Of course. That dog has missed you, I believe.”

You grinned. “I’m gonna go check on Damian, tell him to hurry up.” You waved goodbye, leaving your family to fend for themselves.

You sprinted up the stairs and burst into Damian’s room. He spun around in surprise, but upon seeing you, he broke into the biggest smile, similar to his dad’s.

“You ready to tell them?” You asked, trying not to squeal.

He laughed, his eyes squinting slightly. “I am, I just have no idea how to do it.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, Dick has been pretty sure we’re dating since he met me, and your father probably already knows, what with him being the world’s greatest detective and all.”

Damian’s face paled, “If he’s known this entire time and I’ve been lying for no reason...”

You chuckled, placing a hand on his chest. “You look great, Dami.”

“Thanks.”

“But your tie is crooked,” you added, straightening it.

He hummed and kissed you gently, “What would I do without you?”

“Crash and burn.” You returned, and left the room, Damian in tow.

After visiting Titus, you and Damian joined everyone else in the dining room. You wanted to hold his hand, but refrained.

As you took your seat, you saw the twinkle in Damian’s eyes as he winked at you. You blushed.

“Before we get started, I’d like to say a few words.” Bruce began. “First, I’d like to thank you all for coming over to our house for dinner; I think I speak for everyone when I say that I’m already having a great night.”

“Hear, hear!” Dick yelled, knocking back his drink prematurely. You found yourself laughing along with everyone else. Dick wiped his mouth and grinned.

“I’d also like to apologize for Dick,” Bruce said with a glare. “He’s spirited to say the least. Secondly, I want to let you know that we aren’t just celebrating our children’s success on their project, but also their... friendship.” Bruce was looking directly at the two of you. You blushed, confirming that Damian’s father already knew your relationship status.

“And third, I’d like to remind everyone that everybody has secrets, but it’s the sharing of secrets that forms true bonds. May our families bond well despite our differences.”

You gulped. It was even more clear that Bruce knew the truth, but it was the confused faces of everyone else in the room that worried you. Letting your family know that you’d been secretly dating Damian Wayne for the past six months was... terrifying.

“And lastly, I want to say that meeting (Y/N) has been an experience I never want to forget, so I thank you, her parents, for raising her to become the amazing young woman she is today. She’s made Damian’s life so much brighter and in turn, all of our lives.”

You blushed at the compliment, and raised your glass. “Thank you, Mr. Wayne. I’m glad to have affected your lives in such a positive way, sitting here is something I would never have expected to happen.”

Everyone raised their glasses in toast and you smiled at Damian, whose gaze was on you fondly.

Dinner continued, questions were asked, and replies were given. You grew more and more nervous by the second, the butterflies in your stomach increasing, fluttering wildly.

At the end of dinner, the plates had been cleared and everyone sat at the table, dopey smiles on their faces from full stomachs.

Damian stood randomly and you could see the sweat on his brow. Bruce had an expectant look on his face. Damian cleared his throat.

“(Y/N)’s family, my brothers... father.” Damian began, his voice deep. “I want to inform you of... not so recent developments between (Y/n) and I.”

People looked around at each other in confusion, but you saw that Dick had already put the pieces together by the wild smile on his face. Your father wasn’t far from realizing it too.

“When we met...” Damian coughed. “I’m not gonna lie, (y/n) and I were assholes to each other, pardon my French. But, it was inevitable for us to grow closer... given that we have been and have known that we are soulmates.”

Only Bruce seemed unfazed by the news. Your mother began crying and Jason had a shocked look on his face, as if offended that he hadn’t been the first to know this.

“Woah, woah. How long has this been going on?” Tim blurted.

Damian looked at you.

“Uh... winter break? A bit before potentially.” You answered, unsure whether to count it by when you first held hands or when you first kissed.

Jason scoffed. Your sister laughed.

“We’ve just recently decided to become... public with our affections.” Damian continued. “Of course, father has known this entire time because he has no sense of privacy...”

You laughed, your head leaning against the back of the chair.

“You weren’t trying very hard,” Bruce defended, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Wait,” Dick interrupted catching up to the conversation. “So all those times you told me the two of you were just friends, you were lying to my face?”

Damian nodded.

Dick inclined his head. “I’ve taught you well.” He said, a hint of pride in his voice.

Laughter erupted in the room, easing the tension.

Damian tapped your shoulder, “You gonna keep sitting and make me look awkward up here or are you going to join me?”

You smiled, “I prefer to watch you suffer.” Damian rolled his eyes.

“Anyways, I’d like to thank you, Mr. and Mrs. (Y/l/n), your daughter means the world to me.” Damian announced, his hands began gently massaging your shoulders.

“And I’d like to thank whoever taught Damian how to give a massage, he’s spectacular at it.” You sighed, closing your eyes at his touch.

More laughter came at your statement. Damian moved to sit back in his seat. As he did, he took your hand in his massive one, holding it for everyone to see. Your mom was still crying.

After a moment, Dick spoke, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice, it’s so obvious now!”

“Sorry, Dick.” Damian apologized, but he didn’t sound at all sorry.

“Anyways,” you jut in, giving Damian a pointed look. “Dami and I were wondering if we’d be allowed to hang out over the summer.”

Dick and Jason’s jaws dropped at the shortened name.

“I’d be willing to allow that, assuming you are.” Bruce said to your parents, sounding uncertain. But, of course, if Bruce Wayne was okay with something, then it must be a good idea. Your parents immediately agreed.

The rest of the evening went smoothly as more easy conversation ensued. You had an elated feeling running through your body at the prospect of seeing Damian over the summer and having everyone know about your feelings for each other. Just holding his hand openly felt like a milestone you hadn’t known you needed to reach.

You stood at the door now, surrounded by your family as you prepared to leave the Manor. Goodbyes were being said, but you weren’t ready to let go of Damian’s hand. You watched as Tim, Jason, and Dick all said their goodbyes to your mother, father, and sister. Bruce stood off to the side, waiting for his sons to finish their goodbyes to start his. When he reached your dad, they shook hands firmly. With your mother, he lightly kissed her hand and that’s the moment you realized where Damian and his brothers had gotten their chivalry from. Towards your sister, he did the same and offered to buy her a new paint set for her birthday which was coming up. The surprise on her face when she realized that Bruce Wayne had remembered what she wanted for her upcoming celebration was so obvious that you had to laugh. Your mother protested, but Mr. Wayne shot her down with a, “Oh, it’s no big deal. I always love to encourage young talent.” Your mom shut up after that, unable to argue with Bruce Wayne’s need to spend his money on anyone and everyone. He approached you.

“I expect to see more of you in the upcoming months, (y/n).” He said.

“I’ll make sure to come around more often, then.” You returned.

With a smile he moved away, leaving room for Damian to say his goodbyes.

Damian started with your father, moving to your mother, and then to your sister. He was sweet talking them all, but your sister took the biggest slice of the cake.

“Perhaps, once you receive your new paints, I could give you some lessons. My father didn’t lie when he said you had talent and I’d love to coach you. We might even hang your artwork here in the Manor, assuming you accept.”

Your poor sister looked like she might explode from happiness. “Yes, please.” She said after finding her voice.

Damian moved to you, his gorgeous green eyes looking into yours.

“And (y/n), my beloved.” His voice was low and husky, so much so that hearing his words was difficult. “After tonight, I’ve discovered how much I really love you. It may be too early to be saying this, but I hope we never end our courtship. You make my world so much brighter just by being in it. You know my secrets but you don’t expect me to change my ways. I love that about you. I am so glad I asked you to be my partner, in both science class and personally.” Damian’s voice returned to a normal volume, “I wish you safe travels home and that I will see you again on Monday.”

You laughed. “Why thank you, Damian. I feel the same, just using less words.”

The smile that crossed his face made you weak at the knees. He leaned in and kissed your cheek, a gentle, chaste kiss that meant more than the words he’d just spoken to you.

“Goodbye, (y/n).”

“See you Monday, Dami.”

Your family left the Wayne Manor, and you couldn’t help the skip in your step as you got in the car.

“What did he say?” Your dad asked you once you were on the road.

You hesitated, debating whether or not to tell the whole truth. “A lot. But all in all, I think it was something like his idea of a love confession.”

 

* * *

 

Back in the Wayne Manor, Damian was being bombarded with questions.

“What did you say?” Jason asked.

Damian shrugged, “Not much.”

“Not much?! Demon spawn, I haven’t seen a girl look that happy since... well ever. She looked like you just asked her to marry you.” Jason returned.

“I didn’t ask her to marry me, Jason. We’ve only known each other for three fourths of a year. I simply told her how much she means to me.” Damian responded.

“Okay, but the real question is have you two had sex?” Dick butt in.

Damian looked to the ceiling in desperation. Jason and Tim looked incredibly interested, and Damian was suddenly very glad Bruce had left the room to begin patrol. “My affairs with (y/n) are none of your business.”

Dick, Jason, and Tim all screamed.

“That’s a yes! That’s a yes!” Dick hollered, his loud voice echoing in the large rooms of the Manor.

“What was it like? Was it good?” Tim asked. Dick hummed, expecting an answer.

Damian rolled his eyes, “Perhaps.” Damian paused, back tracking on his confession to sleeping with you. “Perhaps we haven’t even had sex, yet. I respect (y/n).”

“Okay, okay,” Tim said. “You guys have made out by now, right?”

Damian found himself trying his best to get to his room, trying to avoid the seemingly endless stream of questions from his brothers. “Once again, that is none of your business. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.” He tried to escape to the sanctuary of his room where he could collapse on his bed and try not to die of embarrassment.

A heavy sigh filled the room. Jason yelled after him, “Just one question, and give me an actual answer! Do you love her?”

Damian paused halfway up the steps. Did he love you? What sort of question was that? He didn’t just love you, he was completely enamored with you. By you. Enamored in the way you smiled and laughed. Enamored in your gorgeous sense of humor and how you kissed him. How you looked into his eyes as if they were the only thing tethering you to this world and if you looked away, you might just float off and join the rest of the lost souls this universe had disposed of. How you felt, wrapped in his arms. How every tear that had split from your eyes broke his heart into a million pieces. You had elicited feelings hidden so deeply in him that he didn’t know how to react to them. Not just love, but the need to protect you, the need to hold you close and never let go, the need to always talk to you, to always touch you, just in case you were a dream. He was enamored with your body, your mind, your spirit, and your soul. No wonder they called it “soulmates.”

“Yes.” He replied to his brothers. “More than anything I’ve ever loved.”

 


	2. One-Month Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not an actual chapter, just me being really happy about having 57 kudos on this fic in a month!!

Hello! This is going to be a short Damian and Reader Drabble but first I want to say a few things

First, thanks sooooo much to everyone who’s read this fic, left kudos, or commented. I love you all. It’s truly amazing to me that this fic already has over fifty kudos in a month.

Second, I’d like to thank everyone that left a comment on this. Shoutout to Viq, Ghostzard, and Emily for the wonderful reviews that made my day.

In response for all this love and support, I’ve decided to write a short Drabble as a sort of one month anniversary / Christmas special. Happy Holidays to everyone...

* * *

 

You sat on Damian’s bed, stretched out carefully. Damian was standing at the end of the bed, an easel in front of him. His hand was moving slowly, painting gentle strokes down the canvas.

A knock came at the door.

“Yeah?” Damian called. Dick’s voice came through the wood.

“Hey, little bird, we’re about to start dinner!” You smiled. Christmas dinner at the Wayne’s, something you’d been looking forward to for weeks now.

“Alright, one second, I’m almost done here.” Damian responded.

You smiled slightly, and watched as Damian hastily added the finishing touches to your portrait. He set down the brush, a smile on his face. “Come on, (Y/N). Let’s go to dinner, then you can look at the painting.” He held out his hand.

You leaped up off the bed and took his hand, dragging him down the stairs towards the dining room where your two families lay in wait. You took your seat next to Damian and looked at the succulent food resting on the table. Every food imaginable was there and you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“Glad you two could join us,” Bruce said.

You chuckled, “Dami was painting.”

“Ah, what was he painting this time?”

“Me.” You replied, glancing over at Damian, who was fumbling with something under the table. You raised an eyebrow. He shook his head, as if to say  _not right now._ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

You let it go, watching out of the corner of your eye as he slipped a small box inside his pocket.

Dinner went on, conversations ebbing and flowing with ease. Your family and Damian’s has gotten used to each other every since the two of you had announced your relationship status half a year ago. 

You set your fork down, taking a breath. You and Damian had been together for a year now... in fact, your one year anniversary had been two weeks ago. The same time you’d been... attacked in the alley. You gulped. 

 

Conversation was still going, your father and Bruce discussing trivial matters. You had a heat in your chest, your hands shook, your breathing was uneven. The world was spinning, humming, it was overwhelming. You tried to steady your breathing, but it wouldn’t work. All you could think of was Damian in his mask, beating the shit out of a man. You stood, your chair scraping against the floor loudly, causing your ears to ring.

Everyone stared at you. You gulped. It felt like fire was running across your skin, the world was tilting dangerously, molten tar was filling your lungs, making it impossible to breathe. You stuttered out an excuse and stumbled off “to the bathroom.” 

You were too focused on your feet, taking step after step, just trying to get away from the dining room. You didn’t know where you were going, you didn’t hear your family calling after you, you didn’t notice Damian get up to follow you. 

You opened a door. Your knees buckled as you hit the soft fabric of a bed. You recognized the grey and red color scheme of Damian’s room. Your vision blurred and you curled in on yourself, shaking, unable to move, struggling to breathe, to do anything other than panic and break down.

Punch. 

Cold. 

A red, green, and yellow suit.

Sneering.

A phone on the pavement.

Masked faces.

Gloved hands.

An engine roaring.

Panic.

Damian. 

R.

Rough hands

Freezing air.

Punch.

Gentle hands.

Domino Mask.

A tight embrace.

You gasped at the feeling, so familiar but so distant all the same. You heard a voice next to your ear, but you couldn’t focus, all you could see was red, a panic, a wild frenzy. 

“Breathe, (Y/N). Breathe. Listen to my voice, okay? Breathe with me, nice and slow. Breathe, (Y/N)...” 

Damian’s voice broke through the panic. You slowly adjusted your breathing to his, taking deep breaths instead of shallow ones. Your muscles relaxed.

Your senses calmed, no longer overloaded. Damian was stroking your hair gently. He held you close and was still saying the same lines, telling you to breathe slowly. 

You pulled away from his embrace. He had a gentle look in his eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head. You focused on one thing, using it as an anchor. Green. Green like grass in a summer day. Green like the bright color in so many paintings you kept in your room. Green like Robin’s suit. Green like the expo marker Mr. Berg used. Green like the color of your fingernails when you’d first held Damian’s hand. Green like the hastily scribbled 100 on your year-long project. Green like the 100 dollar bill thrown down on the counter. Green like the bomber jacket. Green like Damian’s eyes, the ones you were looking into, filled with worry. 

“Just hold me...” you whispered. 

“Of course, love.” Damian answered, pulling you to him. You let him reposition the two of your bodies on the bed so you leaned against his pillows. 

Damian was whispering quiet things, words you couldn’t quite hear. You turned  your head. 

“...love you so much.” His voice was muffled by your hair, but it was clearer than before. You slumped. 

“I love you too, Dami.” You struggled to get the words out, your tongue wanting to stay rooted to the roof of your mouth.

“I wish it had never happened. I wish I’d been there sooner.” 

You turned to face him, locking your eyes with his. “It’s not your fault, Damian. It’s mine, I shouldn’t have been out.” 

Damian shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I still wish I could’ve done something more... every time I see you like this, I just want to go back to that alley and... and beat the shit out of those guys again.” 

You leaned into him. “Yeah... sometimes I want you to as well.”

Damian hummed and kissed your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. 

The sky outside got darker the longer you and Damian sat there. You were sure that dinner was being cleared off the table. This wasn’t the first time you’d left hurriedly, your senses overloading and panic flowing through your veins. They knew what had happened. You swallowed, not wanting to see their sympathetic faces again, your mom squeezing you in a hug and asking if you were alright. 

Damian shifted. “I have something for you.” He said, reaching into his pocket. 

You remembered the small box. You leaned far enough away from him so you could take it gently from his grip.

You opened it. Inside was a necklace, it was a simple silver chain with a green jewel. There was another small pendant hanging from the chain. You held it sideways to read the writing it had.

_Soulmates._

You smiled wide, looking up to Damian’s eyes. “I love it.” 

He grinned, “I’m glad. Merry Christmas, love.”


	3. Ian Wayne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I have complaints and nowhere else to express them so here we are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 151 KUDOS!!!!

Why hello there fellow nerds/geeks. 

You may be wondering what is happening in this chapter.

Well, it’s nothing particularly important. I’m really just going to be complaining about (Dam)Ian Wayne because something has *erhm* happened in our lovely DC universe and I am  _pissed._

So just a disclaimer, there’s nothing actually happening in this chapter because it’s not a real chapter. Sorry to disappoint you, but I need to complain and I also want you guys to be pissed with me.

    — I’m typing this on my phone, in a car, in Arizona, without the use of one of my thumbs. I am sorry for all grammatical errors —

OKAY

SO 

DC

HAS RELEASED A PREVIEW FOR A NEW COMIC IN THE SUPER SONS SERIES

AND DAMIAN

IS WHITE

AND I AM PISSED

I AM LITERALLY THE WHITEST OF THE WHITE (think English and Irish backgrounds and the inability to tan) AND AS A WHITE PERSON I AM CALLING BULLSHITTTTTTT

HE IS WHITE WITH BROWN HAIR

AND HIS NAME IS IAN

FUCKING IAN

THEY TOOK HIS ARAB SKIN AND NAME AND JUST THREW THOSE OUT THE FUCKING WINDOW

IAN IS SUCH A GENERIC WHITE NAME

I LOVE DAMIAN BECAUSE HES NOT GENERIC DAMMIT

AND ITS NOT LIKE ANOTHER SITUATION LIKE WITH DICK WHERE HE JUST FORGOT HIS IDENTITY

NO

THEY WHITEWASHED HIM

WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

idk, the comic hasn’t actually come out yet. I’m still pissed tho. There’s no excuse for whitewashing a perfectly beautiful character. 

And once I get access to a proper computer, I will put a picture of him on here. But until then, you can just look it up.

[[[[ Heyyyy so its been months since I updated this and the only thing to blame is my damn computer which completely crashed on me, like months ago, but here's the pic of Ian next to Damian that I promised, curtesy of me finally getting a new computer. :D ]]]] 

 

if you’ve gotten this far, congrats. I applaud you. You have exceeded my expectations. If you want, contribute your anger in the comments, I’m always down for complaining with other people. If you don’t want to, that’s fine, I’ll just sit over here in silence...

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? Please leave comments and kudos! Also, what was your favorite part?? I’m curious.


End file.
